Shrek and the Queen of Duloc
by Gadfly
Summary: A story that fills in the action between Shrek's rescue of Fiona at Farquaad's castle and their wedding at his swamp.
1. Introduction

The climax of the film "Shrek" takes place in a large church in the mythical kingdom of Duloc, where the title ogre and his allies overcome the evil Lord Farquaad and rescue the fair Princess Fiona. Following this, she and Shrek share True Love's First Kiss which dramatically breaks the spell that has condemned Fiona to a dual existence, a spell that made her a human by day and an ogress at night. Immediately following that, she and Shrek start to kiss again – and the film abruptly cuts to the end of their wedding kiss at his (their) swamp home.

But exactly what happened between the two kisses? Was it as smooth a transition as the film implied? Well, maybe – but then again, maybe not! This story addresses the "not" scenario. It attempts to tie up some loose ends, fill in some gaps, and offer some speculation on certain questions that the film raises. These are all, of course, my take on the subjects and I make no claim to absolute authoritative certainty. In fact, if certain of my speculations mirror what was going through the screenwriters' minds, I would regard it as a minor miracle – i.e., what I'm basically saying is that I've taken "La Liberté" with some of my imaginings. But my heart is pure, and my intentions are simply to pay homage to one of my favorite films and, above all, to entertain.

**Copyright Notice**

Characters, places and situations from the motion picture "Shrek" belong to Dreamworks SKG. They are used here with affection but, alas, without permission.

This fanfic features some lyrics to the songs "No Matter What" by Jim Steinman and "It Is You (I Have Loved)" by Dana Glover. Snippets of these songs can be heard and CDs featuring them can be ordered through the following web pages:

"**No Matter What"**

From the CD "Where We Belong" by Boyzone

And the CD "Notting Hill – Motion Picture Soundtrack"

"**It Is You (I Have Loved)"**

From the CD "Shrek – Motion Picture Soundtrack"

(And no, I'm not getting paid for any of this, folks.)


	2. Prolog: Pew View

Prolog: Pew View

Mayor Mumphord Milquest of Duloc – a nondescript, portly man who had made an art of the avoidance of controversy and advanced to his position through skillful sycophancy to the reining regent – had seen much in his forty-five years. And, as this province had a tendency, for some mysterious reason, to attract an unusual number of fairy-folk and their kin, he thought that there was little left that could surprise him. But the events of the past ten minutes had changed his mind. Now, as he nervously stood on the stage of a church, watching the passionate embrace of two ogres while he himself squirmed under the watchful glare of a protective dragon, he reflected on those incredible few minutes.

They had begun as he was watching the end of a royal wedding ceremony. A surprisingly unostentatious event, especially considering that the groom was Lord Farquaad, a man not at all disinclined to pomp and ceremony. Indeed, the chancel/stage area of the church where Farquaad and his bride stood with the priest was remarkably inornate. The only other person to share the stage was the brawny and behooded Thelonious, the town executioner, who waited nearby, holding a pillow upon which sat the wedding rings. (Milquest mused if it said something oddly profound about the institution of marriage that an executioner would be serving as best man.) The only other objects on the stage were two three-foot podiums, upon which sat the couple's crowns, as Farquaad had ordered that the wedding ceremony be immediately followed by their official coronation as king and queen of Duloc.

Of course, much of this had been literally thrown together in just a few hours time. Farquaad, the short-tempered, short-mannered, and – well, generally short authoritarian ruler of Duloc was taking the vows with a lovely young auburn-haired princess he had only met that day. She had arrived in the province just that morning for the express reason of becoming Farquaad's bride and – through the complex machinations of Dulocian law – queen to Farquaad's king. Milquest and the five members of the town council – known as "Farquaad's rubber stamp" to their many detractors – were introduced to her briefly a couple of hours before the wedding. She had spoken almost none at all during the meeting, and, despite her stunning physical beauty, her eyes contained a sad, faraway look. Her face bore an expression, not of a blushing bride making ready for her wedding, but rather more like a mourner at the funeral of someone she had dearly loved.

As two female attendants arrived to lead the princess away for her final dress fitting, Milquest had decided to try to coax some response from his future queen and make a positive impression for himself with Farquaad's new nominal partner. So he had jovially ventured, "So, your Majesty, what do you think of your future kingdom?"

The princess had glanced out a nearby window at the perfectly neat, aligned, and organized streets, shops, and homes that made up the majority of the walled town, then shrugged and replied dully, "Very clean." She had then turned and absently followed the attendants out of the room without another word, unconsciously leaving the parting bows of Milquest and the council unacknowledged.

That was some two hours before. Some ten MINUTES before, during the wedding ceremony itself, she had, surprisingly, seemed even more distracted. Even as the priest read the vows, she seemed to keep glancing out the window at the slowly setting sun. She had even asked the priest to skip part of the ceremony itself, all the way to the I-do's. A most peculiar occurrence, Milquest had thought at the time.

But the peculiarities hadn't really begun yet. They really began just after the priest had officially pronounced the couple "husband and wife, king and queen," when the new queen leaned down to kiss her now royal husband. At that point, the church doors burst open and in ran a large green ogre shouting "I OBJECT!" loud enough that the entire town could hear him – even if nearly all of it HADN'T already been sitting in the church pews. The ogre hurried down the aisle toward the newlyweds as Milquest and most of the other attendees rose to their feet, not sure what was going on. The ogre's gait slowed as he neared the front of the church, as he apparently became more conscious of his surroundings. Either that or he was becoming less certain of his resolve.

As the beast neared his own pew, Milquest could not only smell him, he recognized him. He was the ogre that had a few days before also disrupted the competition Farquaad was conducting where various knights were vying to determine who would be the champion to storm the far-off castle where a fierce fire-breathing dragon was keeping the princess prisoner. Oddly, the resulting confrontation had ended with the ogre himself emerging as the champion. And he had actually succeeded – nobody knew just how – in retrieving the princess and turning her over to Farquaad to be his bride. Perhaps, Milquest mused, by disrupting the wedding the ogre now wished in like manner to supplant Farquaad as the groom. The absurdity of his thought brought a half-smile to Milquest's face.

Milquest's smile faded as he looked back to the wedding pair. The new queen's eyes were fixed on the ogre, her face a mixture of surprise, anger, and – something else Milquest couldn't quite place. But Farquaad's face revealing nothing more than barely restrained outrage. He briefly shifted his eyes off to the side of the church where they locked with that of a soldier wearing the dress uniform of Captain of the Guards. Captain Horace Gledius, to be precise – a relatively good-looking, well-built man. Farquaad gave a quick, almost imperceptible nod before shifting his gaze back to the increasingly uncomfortable ogre, who had started awkwardly babbling something to the crowd about how he liked Duloc. Gledius, in turn, made some subtle hand and head signals to guards stationed around the church. The doors the ogre had just come in through were quietly closed, and other exits were likewise quickly and quietly sealed.

Milquest sighed as the ogre started to argue with the royal couple. He actually felt sorry for the monster. He hoped that whatever had prompted this brash act was worth it, for, barring some miracle, he was soon to pay for it with his life. Milquest actually winced in sympathy as the ogre openly accused Farquaad of marrying only so as to be king. This was true, of course – Milquest and the council already assumed this, knowing Farquaad – but the ogre was not helping his case in pointing it out. He was only either shortening what was left of his life, or extending his torture, depending on Farquaad's mood.

Then there was another heated exchange between the ogre and the queen – some naïve ramblings about "true love" – and then the ogre sputtered into silence as Farquaad actually began to chuckle. The new king then laughed outright, his loud, mocking voice carrying across the church as he said, "The OGRE has fallen in LOVE with the PRINCESS!"

Farquaad signaled to a man holding a set of four-foot long cue cards, who dutifully and adroitly shuffled through the deck and then pulled out one labeled "Laugh." He held it up and all the Dulocians, also dutifully, burst into laughter. But for many, Milquest included, it was even more forced than most of the compulsory responses Farquaad demanded in his perfectly orchestrated little kingdom. For the ogre was wilting under the barrage of mockery. His head held low, even his trumpet-like ears drooping, he was perhaps beginning to understand the tragic futility of his brash actions. Milquest could almost feel his heart go out to the pitiful creature, and the mayor's eyes slid to the side of the church toward Gledius. The captain was laughing heartily like everyone in the church – save the queen and the ogre – but the mirth did not extend to his eyes, which were cold and hard and fixed on the ogre. Gledius's hand rested upon the hilt of his sword. It would not be long now. He doubted Farquaad would have the ogre killed then and there – it would be too unseemly – but his end would no doubt come soon.

At Farquaad's curt signal the card was lowered, and the laughter quickly trailed to a stop. God, Milquest hated being manipulated this way. He felt like an automaton, like one of those insipid little singing puppets that Farquaad had placed by the town gates to welcome visitors.

But the queen had not laughed. She gazed upon the ogre with sympathy. No, not just sympathy, but – something more. She asked him something in a soft voice that Milquest could not quite make out over the fading laughter, but before the ogre could reply Farquaad seized her hand, knelt before her and demanded that she kiss him so as to complete the ceremony and begin their "happily ever after." He puckered his lips and closed his eyes – which was just as well, as that way he didn't see the little scowl that crossed the queen's face as she looked down on her husband with new-found revulsion. Then she said something else in a soft voice, this time apparently to herself – something about night and day – as she wistfully looked out the window at the last fading rays of the Duloc sunset. Then, with sudden resolution, she pulled away from Farquaad and, with her eyes focused on the ogre, she backed to the window.

"I meant to show you before…" the beauty said to the beast. She offered an uneasy little smile, then closed her eyes and bowed her head.

Then Milquest gasped saw the – cloud? fog? – begin forming around her. It began at her feet and moved upward in a swirling motion, a bright luminous fog highlighted with the twinkling of lights. Within that fog the outline of the queen could still just be made out – but that outline was – CHANGING. It was growing wider – taller. Then, as quickly as it began, the fog lifted. What it revealed, in place of the queen, was a broad-framed, green-skinned, pug-nosed, trumpet-eared ogress.

"Good Lord!" Milquest gasped, his voice blending in with dozens of other expressions of shock and bewilderment across the church. Some women -- and a few men -- even fainted.

The ogress opened her still-blue eyes -- eyes that immediately locked on just one figure, that of the ogre.

She was apparently oblivious -- or was trying to be oblivious -- to all other reactions. She gave another tepid, self-conscious little smile as she waited anxiously to see what he would do.

Milquest could only see the ogre's back from where he stood, but judging from the creature's body language he had been as dumbstruck as the other witnesses to the metamorphosis. Then, shaking himself from his reverie, he stammered in an upbeat voice, "Well -- uuuh -- that explains a lot!"

Milquest had absolutely no idea what that meant, but it certainly seemed to satisfy the ogress. Her anxiety immediately melted away, as if the worries and fears of a lifetime had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled warmly and lovingly at the ogre, and although Milquest couldn't see it, he somehow knew the ogre was doing the same to her.

But the ogress's features quickly changed yet again, this time to horror, as Farquaad finally registered his own reaction.

"Oh, it's DISGUSTING!" he spat, "GUARDS! GUARDS! I order you to get them out of my sight! NOW! Get them BOTH!"

A battalion of armored soldiers spilled out of the alcoves and made for the ogres. Milquest looked to the side to see Gledius draw his sword and quickly direct which companies to attack which target.

"NO!" the ogress screamed, and rushed toward the ogre. As she got near, she reached out desperately for him. Dropping his guard, he reached out for her in return. Just before their hands could touch, dozens of arms seized the two of them and jerked them apart. They continued calling each other's names as the soldiers pulled the struggling pair further away from each other.

"The bast--" Milquest began, but quickly bit his lip. Yet he could tell from similar murmuring from around him that he was not the only Dulocian to feel his sympathies shifting to the "wrong side" in this little spectacle. Farquaad's actions certainly didn't engender sympathy. Enraged that his "perfect wedding" to his "perfect bride" had gone so awry, he ranted and stormed. He seized the king's crown from its pedestal and angrily planted it upon his head. Then he thundered at the struggling ogre of things he would do to make him beg for death.

Then Farquaad turned back to the ogress, who was also still struggling against the arms that held her, and still calling out the ogre's name.

"As for you, my 'WIFE'," he spat the word out in disgust, drawing his shortsword and holding the point up to just below her chin, silencing her, "I'll have you locked back in that tower till the end of your days!"

Despite an initial valiant resistance, the superior number and coordination of the soldiers had succeeded in steadily subduing the ogre to this point. Now, however, as he saw Farquaad turning his wrath upon the ogress, he somehow summoned some great reserve of strength. With a mighty heave he tossed off the solders that had been restraining his right arm. Then he quickly placed two fingers in his mouth and let go a loud, high-pitched whistle. Milquest and several others quickly plugged their ears. The ogress stared about, puzzled as to the significance of the ogre's action. Farquaad simply continued to rage.

"I WILL HAVE ORDER! I WILL HAVE PERFECTION! I WILL HAVE—"

No one ever found out the third item on Farquaad's wish list. At that moment the huge stained glass window directly above him burst inward and there, standing in its place, was a large, angry, pinkish-red dragon – which, oddly, was wearing a large chandelier like some gigantic necklace. Dulocians screamed in terror as the beast roared and scanned the scene below it, quickly sizing up the situation and characters involved. Farquaad, his expression a mixture of shock and indignation, looked up to see what had happened. Then he screamed himself. It was a scream that was cut short as the dragon's head dove downward and unceremoniously seized Duloc's new king. Then it reared back up, tossed him into its mouth, and swallowed him whole. As it completed this maneuver yet another unlikely event occurred. A donkey, which had apparently been clinging to the chandelier, scrambled up the dragon's neck and onto the top of its head – then SPOKE.

"ALL RIGHT, NOBODY MOVE! I'VE GOT A DRAGON HERE AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO USE IT!" he called out, then a moment later added, "I'M A DONKEY ON THE EDGE!"

Indeed, nobody seemed inclined to move as the dragon's luminous yellow eyes kept an alert watch on the crowd. Milquest glanced over at Gledius. The captain was gazing up at the dragon, trembling in terror. Milquest noted that he had even dropped his sword. It lay by the foot of one of his armored legs – along with a small but expanding little puddle of yellowish liquid that was seeping out of the leg armor. Despite the situation, Milquest had a hard time suppressing a grin at that.

Just then the dragon gave a mighty burp, and Farquaad's crown came popping out of its mouth. It bounced down the steps leading up to the stage, rolled to the side of the church and finally came to rest in the puddle by Gledius's foot.

"Celebrity marriages," the donkey joked, "they never last!"

Most Dulocians laughed at that, some because they felt they'd best play along, some because they genuinely found the quip funny, but most in relief. It was beginning to dawn on them that maybe they wouldn't end up roasted and/or eaten after all. Milquest noted that there was even some applause scattered throughout the audience.

Then the donkey looked down at the ogre. The soldiers had instinctively released him and the ogress with the dragon's dramatic appearance, and nothing now stood between the pair. The donkey's voice took on a more sensitive tone as he said, "Go ahead, Shrek."

A hush fell across the church as the ogre carefully took the few steps up to the stage where the ogress stood, her back to him where she had turned to look up at her liberators.

"Fiona…" he began, his voice soft and not entirely sure.

The ogress slowly – tentatively – turned. She looked into his face, her deep blue eyes hopeful. "Yes, Shrek?"

"I…" he began, hesitated for a moment, but then looked back into her beckoning eyes. "I love you," he said with sudden resolve.

The ogress gave a little smile. She appeared more hopeful, but still a vague doubt seemed to linger. "Really?" she asked him, almost whispering.

"Really, really," he said with comforting certainty.

She took a moment to read his face, and her last doubts vanished. "I love you, too," she said tenderly.

As the two melded together for the inevitable kiss, Milquest actually felt his eyes begin to mist. He had not thought this was possible. His cynicism ran long and deep. Love like this MIGHT be true in some fairy tale, he thought, but even those fairy tale romances he had witnessed he had found somehow wanting and superficial. But there was just something so – so pure, so wonderfully elemental and innocent in the expressions of love he had just witnessed from these two – beasts? Perhaps he was getting overly sentimental in his middle age. Yet he was hardly alone, as he heard a number of restrained sobs from the other Dulocians. Then, to the side of the stage, Thelonious seized one of the large cue cards and quickly scribbled something on it. He turned it around to the audience. "Aawww" it read, and most of the Dulocians gladly gave voice to the expression. And this time it didn't sound forced.

Then that shimmering cloud returned with a vengeance. At first the couple didn't notice it as it began swirling about the ogress, so lost were they in their own reality. But then the ogress found herself being pried away from the embrace by the anomaly. She briefly reached back for him, her eyes wide with surprise as she was actually lifted into the air and slowly began to spin in synch with the cloud's swirl. But then her eyes closed and she seemed to lapse into some sort of almost trance-like state as the brightening and expanding cloud surrounded her and she herself began to glow. Then odd rays of light began beaming outward from her, the brightness becoming so intense that Milquest and the others had to shield their eyes. Some of the shimmering sparkles emanating from the expanding cloud actually began falling among the attendees in the front rows; a couple bounced off Milquest's skin, causing a temporary feeling of warmth where they touched. Suddenly, there was a kind of explosion that emanated from the cloud's core. Milquest felt a great gust of warm wind wash over him, nearly knocking him backwards, and he barely choked back a scream. A split second later he heard the windows of the church smashed outward as the wave washed through them. Milquest then opened his eyes again in time to see a figure, still wrapped amidst the shimmering remnants of the dissipating cloud, slowly descend back to the stage floor where it lay in a crumpled heap.

The ogre hurried to her side. "Fiona… are you all right?" he asked with concern, reaching down for her.

"Why – yes," the ogress said as she stood with his help and looked down at herself. She appeared no different than before the cloud's reappearance, and this apparently perplexed and disappointed her. "But I—I don't understand," she said, then looked at him, smiled sadly and added almost apologetically, "I was supposed to be beautiful."

The ogre smiled lovingly at her, and he gave a minute little shake of his head as he saw the concern with which she watched him looking at her. "But you ARE beautiful!" he declared.

The ogress gazed into his face and saw the adoration and sincerity beaming down at her. She smiled brightly. She even giggled. Then they again reached for each other.

"I was hoping this would be a happy ending," the donkey almost sobbed from atop the dragon's head as the ogres once more and fell into a tight embrace, their eyes closed, their lips locked, and their entire world consisting only of each other.

The cue card worker, feeling inspired, held up the card that read "Applause," and the crowd broke into a loud round of it. There were even some enthusiastic whistles heard from around the church. The ogres, however, remained oblivious to all of it. Milquest felt a little tug at his heart as he watched them.

Then he felt a tug at his arm. He looked over to see a thin, balding, bespeckled man carrying a large briefcase. It was Clarence Beaglely, the town manager, and his usually impassive face bore a look of great concern.

"Come on!" Beaglely said with some urgency.

"What's wrong?" Milquest asked.

Beaglely gestured to the side of the church where Gledius stood. The captain had regained some of his composure. He had retrieved and re-sheathed his sword, but his hand still rested on its hilt, and he glared at the ogre couple with barely restrained loathing.

"We've got to make sure the donkey's right," Beaglely said.


	3. Chapter 1: Afterglow

Chapter 1: Afterglow

Fiona felt herself floating again. No, not literally, as she had been a few moments before when the spell was at last broken. But now, enveloped firmly and protectively in Shrek's huge, strong arms, their bodies pressed snugly against each other, their lips joined in a long, ardent kiss, Fiona felt as if she were -- as if THEY were -- transcending into another plane of existence. A plane in which only two beings existed; a handsome, brave, green-skinned knight and his beautiful ogress princess.

"Uuuh ... Your Majesty?"

Fiona dimly registered the faint, distant, unrecognized voice. She felt Shrek gently begin to pull away in response to the sound. "NO!" she felt her soul cry, then she wrapped her arms as far around him as she could and drew him back even closer to her. She heard him grunt slightly, surprised at her strength, but then he hugged her back more tightly as well. She felt her heart racing and, pressed against him as she was, she thought she could feel his heartbeat as well, almost in synch with hers. They had to break the kiss for a moment, desperate as they were for air. They each took a few brief, shallow gasps, and opened their eyes just wide enough to look upon each other's yearning faces. "Wow," Fiona whispered, grinning giddily, then they each shut their eyes again and renewed the kiss.

"Excuse me? Your Highness?"

The same voice as before. It was getting annoying. She wished she could just shut it out completely. And then she remembered; as an ogress, she could! And so she did, curling her ears up into little balls that almost no sound could penetrate.

She and Shrek continued to exist as one for several seconds more, and then Shrek slowly but firmly pulled away. Fiona languidly opened her eyes as he slid his huge hands across her back until they gently held her upper arms. She let her own hands slide down until they rested against the sides of his waist – his "love handles," as they said. She giggled at the appropriateness. Her eyes took a moment to focus as she reluctantly descended back into reality. When they did, she saw him looking at her, his expression anxious. He looked like he wanted – he NEEDED – to say something. She uncurled her ears to hear him.

"Fiona…" he began, then halted.

"Yes … Shrek?" she gently prodded.

"Fiona, would ye m-- … would ye ma--" he tried to ask, his resolve sputtering. Eventually he gave a great sigh, smiled weakly, and asked, "Would ye maybe like t'see my swamp?"

Fiona returned his smile and replied, "Yes, I'd like that." She of course knew it wasn't what he was about to ask. And she was afraid she knew what he WAS about to ask. Not that she had any doubt about what her answer would have been. But things were happening so very fast right now that perhaps it was best if they both took a while to catch their breaths. Well, a LITTLE while, anyway.

"Then step right up fer your ride," Shrek grinned, and gestured towards at the dragon.

"One ride to Ogre Swamp, coming right up -- or right down, anyways!" Donkey buoyantly called from atop Dragon's head, then slid back down her neck until he clung to her chandelier necklace. "That's our fare, babe, let's go get 'em!" Donkey said to Dragon. Dragon nodded, spread her wings and dropped from her perch in the window to the stage below, still managing to make a noticeable thud when she landed. There were several fearful gasps from among the crowd – and one from Fiona.

Fiona looked up at the dragon. The great beast smiled down at her as Donkey peered from around Dragon's neck. "Say, Princess!" he joked, "Can I tell people 'bout your little secret now?"

"Oh?" Shrek said, and teasingly asked Fiona, "This secret o'yours – is it that you're an ogress, or is there somethin' else?"

"No, that's it," Fiona chuckled, but it was more than a bit forced. His and Donkey's jests had suddenly reminded her of where she was – and what she was. She dared a glance toward the pews, where she saw hundreds of pairs of other eyes peering back at her. She quickly, reflexively shifted her gaze downward, and found herself staring past the front of her Rubenesque figure at the palms of her large green hands, which immediately began to tremble and perspire.

She felt Shrek lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and he adroitly stepped forward and to the side, positioning his wide body between herself and her view of the audience – and they of her. "Let's go, Fiona," he said quietly but firmly, then nodded up to the dragon, who returned the nod and offered Fiona one of her hand-like front paws to climb onto. But as Dragon reached down, Fiona instinctively stepped back from the claws of the creature that had kept her prisoner for years, and had, the last time Fiona had seen her, been trying her best to burn her to a crisp.

Shrek wrapped a comforting arm around Fiona as her entire body began to tremble. "I'm sorry," she said, not far from tears now, "everything – it's all been so much – I think it's all starting to catch up to me."

"There, there, it's all right," Shrek said, stoking her hair as she laid her head against his chest, "you'll feel better when we get to th' swamp. Let's try again, shall we—"

But Fiona wasn't finished. "And those people – and THIS –" she gestured toward her body, "it's something I've been terrified of since – as long as I can remember."

"It's okay," he said, trying to sound soothing. He now cradled her in both arms as she continued to talk, her movements becoming more agitated and her words coming out faster and more shaky.

"Everything's topsy-turvy – Farquaad turning out to be such a monster – the dragon showing up like she did – and most of all – most of all –"

She paused then, and looked up at his face. She gingerly laid a hand against his cheek and spoke, her body and voice suddenly steady again, "And most of all my true love, coming to my rescue yet again. Rescuing me from him. And rescuing me – from myself."

Shrek gave a short, self-conscious grin. He slid his arms down from her back until his hands rested against the sides of her waist. "I'm just sorry I couldn't be the Prince Charmin' ye dreamed about all those years," he said. "Like ye said, I wasn't supposed t'be an ogre."

"That's okay," she said with a short, self-deprecating chuckle, "neither was I. At least I didn't think so. Now I – I'm not so sure this wasn't how it was meant to be all along. I just don't know. Everything I thought I DID know – that I DID believe – it was all just cr– I mean, it all just crumbled. Right now, there's only ONE thing I AM sure of. And that is, I'd rather live the rest of my life with this –" she motioned to her body again – "than live it without you."

Shrek blushed, then gently took her hand from his cheek and kissed it. "Let's go home," he said.

Fiona's eyes seemed to lose focus then. "Home," she repeated the word reflectively, as if it were from some foreign tongue and represented a new and unfamiliar concept. After a few seconds lost in this state she snapped back to attention, looked back up at Shrek, smiled, and said, "Yes. I'd like that. I'd like that very much."

Shrek gestured back to Dragon's paw, which was still outstretched and awaited her. Fiona looked up at the beast, who nodded reassuringly. Fiona sighed, bit her lip, and took a tentative step towards her.

"Excuse me, Queen Fiona?"

Fiona halted. She recognized the voice as the one she was hearing when she and Shrek were -- preoccupied. Now she looked to the direction it came from and saw two men standing beside each other about twenty feet away, beside the pedestal that still held the queen's crown. Both were in upper-class formal outfits. One – the one who spoke – was a thin man with wire-rimmed spectacles, a balding head, and a small moustache. He stood about a foot taller than Farquaad had, but was still short. A large briefcase, which he held by both hands, dangled before him – he looked so frail that Fiona didn't wonder why he needed both hands to hold it. His face wore a serious expression, with a hint of anxiety but no real fear. The other man was taller, a little above normal height (HUMAN normal height, she corrected herself), with a rotund body. His face bore such an exaggerated, plastered-on grin that Fiona guessed him for a politician. Then she remembered – he WAS a politician. He was the mayor of Duloc, in fact. She dimly recalled being introduced to him and the town council earlier that day. Of course, she didn't remember much about that – most of the day her mind had been on Shrek. But Farquaad had insisted on her meeting them, since she was about to become—

"Queen Fiona," the smaller man said again in a matter-of-fact manner void of any readable emotion. He then and bowed curtly and said, "I apologize for the intrusion. My name is Clarence Beaglely. I am the town manager of Duloc. And this, as you may recall from earlier today –" he gestured to his companion, "is Mayor Mumphord Milquest." Miquest also bowed awkwardly.

"My – regrets – for the tribulations you just endured," Beaglely said, "but I offer my congratulations for your ascendancy to the crown."

Fiona blinked, confused, sure she couldn't be hearing what she was hearing. She and the two men continued to stare at each other for a few seconds more. She noticed the mayor's face never dropped its plastered grin, but beads of sweat were beginning to pop out on his forehead and he glanced every so often at the dragon, who was now watching the two men with wary eyes.

"Hey, what's goin' on?" Donkey asked, confused.

"That's what I'd like t'know," Shrek said gruffly, taking a step forward to stand by Fiona and frowning suspiciously at the two men.

Beaglely, still looking at Fiona, nudged the mayor in the ribs sharply. The larger man grunted, but then finally sprang to life.

"Oh, yes!" Milquest said in a very officious tone. He turned, removed the remaining crown from its pedestal, then turned back to face Fiona and held the crown towards her. "Your Majesty," he said, his deep, throaty voice carrying across the church, "as mayor of Duloc, it is my privilege to offer you this symbol of—"

"Hold the phone!" Shrek rumbled, "She can't be queen! They never completed the marriage ceremony!"

"Technically, they did," Beaglely spoke again, "the priest officially pronounced them 'man and wife, king and queen.' Isn't that right, Father?"

From a far corner of the chancel, the elderly priest, who had quietly retreated there when Shrek had first started his charge up the aisle, nervously and quietly replied, "Uuuuh – y-yes."

"You see," Beaglely said, "she has officially been pronounced 'Queen.'"

"But they never even kissed!" Shrek argued.

Beaglely shrugged. "The kiss was superfluous," he said dismissively, "it was, one might say, simply icing on the royal wedding cake."

"See, Shrek?" Donkey said from his roost, "I tol'ja cake would fit into this somehow!"

Shrek rolled his eyes as Beaglely continued, "The moment the priest pronounced them married, Dulocian law made them king and queen. Lord-- rather, KING Farquaad was right to that extent. And now that the King is --" he glanced at the dragon, "indisposed --" he looked back at the ogres, "that means not only that the princess is now our queen, she is the sole reigning ruler of Duloc."

"Wait one cotton pickin' minute!" Shrek continued to object, "She --"

Shrek stopped himself short when he felt the hand on his shoulder. He looked over to see Fiona. She had at first appeared shell-shocked at Beaglely's pronouncements. Now she seemed to have regained her composure somewhat. She smiled uneasily at Shrek and said, "It's okay. I think I can handle this."

Fiona took a few steps forward and addressed Beaglely directly. "Mr. Beaglely, I'm honored by the title you're trying to bestow on me but -- well, recall that little light show a few minutes ago?"

He nodded.

"Well," she continued, "what you saw was the breaking of a spell that for years turned me into a human during the day and -- and this form at night. Now that it is broken, however, I anticipate that I will retain this form -- " she looked back at Shrek and added comfortingly, "love's true form --" then back to Beaglely, "for the rest of my life. So tell me, Mr. Beaglely," she gestured to her body, "is this how your queen is expected to look?"

"It is … different," Beaglely acknowledged stoically, "But there is nothing in Dulocian law that specifically states that its monarch MUST be a human. So, now that THAT issue is out of the way --"

Beaglely nodded to Milquest, who stepped up to the ogress. Her face still bore the mixture of shock and surprise it took on at Beaglely's nonchalant dismissal of her concern.

Milquest placed the crown upon Fiona's head, and announced in a loud voice, "GOD SAVE HER ROYAL MAJESTY, QUEEN FIONA OF DULOC!"

Milquest and Beaglely then each knelt on one knee, and both said ceremoniously, in unison, "GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!" Milquest then motioned to the cue card worker, who shuffled through his cards for a moment, tossed aside one that read "God save the King! " then held one up that read,

"God save the Queen! " Most of the Dulocians responded in unison, " GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!" The card worker then held up the next card in succession, one that read "Applause."

Fiona dared to look out at the crowd for the first time since that glance she had ventured a bit earlier. They were all looking directly at her, and nearly all were applauding. There were a few exceptions -- for example, a soldier off to the side who wore a decorative sash across one shoulder of his dress uniform – she assumed this meant a high rank of some sort – but nearly everyone else was clapping and smiling. She had to glance back down at herself to make sure she hadn't magically transformed back to her human state. When she saw she hadn't, she felt tears of joy start to well up in her eyes.

"OH, FOR THE LOVE O' PETE!" Shrek bellowed and stormed across the stage, in front of and then past Fiona.

"Shrek?!" Fiona called out, but he ignored her as he made his way directly to the cue card worker. The worker, seeing the enraged ogre approaching him, froze in fright, then held up his cadre of cards in front of him as if he thought that might yield some protection.

"GIMME THOSE!" Shrek snarled, and viciously grabbed the cards from the man's hands. Shrek then tore the entire group of cards in half with one rip, stacked the two halves together, and tore THEM in half with one rip. He then threw the remains down in disgust and addressed the crowd.

"ARE YE ALL DAFT?!" he yelled angrily, "WHAT 'ERE YE, SOME MINDLESS ROBOTS? I DON'T KNOW WHAT FARQUAAD DID TO TURN YE INTO SUCH BLOODY BLEETIN' SHEEP, BUT HE'S GONE NOW! SO APPLAUD, OR DON'T APPLAUD, OR DO WHATEVER ELSE YA DARN WELL

FEEL LIKE FER YERSELVES! FER GOD'S SAKES, YOU'VE GOT YER OWN MINDS. SO USE 'EM AND BE YER FRICKIN' SELVES!!"

For several seconds there was a great buzz among the Dulocians as they turned and murmured to each other. Then nearly the entire congregation turned toward Shrek and broke into a round of loud, spontaneous applause. Shrek's expression quickly changed from one of outrage to bewilderment. He looked back at Fiona, and he saw her looking at him with a blend of loving admiration at his actions and amusement as his reaction.

"Oh, I give up!" Shrek said, tossing up his arms in resignation. He then strode over to stand by the new queen.

"Look, Fiona, we--" he began as he reached her side, but his words were cut off as she reached up, grabbed the top of his shirt with both hands, pulled him forward, and planted a hard kiss on his lips. Then she let go and he nearly fell backwards.

"What was THAT for?!" he asked, flabbergasted.

"For what you did! That was GREAT!" Fiona bubbled, "That was absolutely wonderful! Shrek, you're a natural leader!"

"I am?" he asked, puzzled. Although it wasn't his intent, he was glad this made her happy. But somewhere in his mind a red warning flag had started waving.

"Of course!" she said, "Oh, this will be wonderful! You and I, here in Duloc, helping these people start new lives, build a new local culture, even! Oh, it's so exciting!"

Shrek started to say something, but Fiona quickly turned back to Milquest and Beaglely and said, "Prithee excuse me, kind sirs. I fear I haven't properly introduced you. This is my …" Fiona mentally cast about for a moment, trying to think of a proper title, then settled for the wholly inadequate "… friend, Shrek."

Shrek detected a slight change in the tone with which she spoke – and it sent a shiver up his spine. It was the tone she used when she "played" the princess – the carefully regulated modulation he had heard in the castle when he had first met her, and later when she met Farquaad. Shrek wasn't sure what was going on inside that lovely head of hers, but it was starting to scare him. Whatever it was, it had to be nipped in the bud – NOW. So he reached forward, placed one hand on either of Fiona's shoulders and gave three quick shakes, hoping to bring her back down to reality. Fiona's head whiplashed with the jostling, her crown very nearly toppling off, and as soon as he finished her eyes settled on him, surprise and shock registering on her face.

"Fiona – dearest –" he began, using a term of endearment for her for the first time. His kept his hands on her shoulders, and tried to keep his voice soft but firm as he continued, "it's time fer us t'go."

She stared back at him, her expression torn between incomprehension and reluctance. He sighed, then turned to Beaglely and Milquest. "Sorry – _gentlemen_ –" he said, "but you'll hav'ta find yourselves another queen. The lady says NO."


	4. Chapter 2: Caught in the Reign

Chapter 2: Caught in the Reign

Somewhere inside Fiona a familiar, smoldering ember blazed to life. To her credit, she managed to resist the first impulse that struck her in such situations; that being the immediate infliction of pain, preferably physical, on the party responsible for the flare-up. Instead, her mind waged a quick but intense debate on the proper course of action. A part of her considered simply conceding – letting Shrek have his way, and thus make him happy. After all, she really wanted this man, and to start resisting his wishes might work to wound his ego and drive him away. But she quickly squelched this idea. To become a docile, subservient appendage to him, just because he was "the man" of the partnership and needed his ego stroked, was a medieval concept that she found repugnant. If she and Shrek were to be happy together, then they had to be happy with each other, which meant they BOTH had to not only share mutual love, but mutual respect.

So Fiona took a deep breath, reached up to her shoulders, and laid one of her hands on either of his. As he turned back from the two men to face her, she firmly lifted his hands off of her shoulders. She then placed his hands together and cupped her own hands over them, then looked into his now bewildered face and spoke.

"Shrek – darling – " she said, speaking slowly and deliberately but with an obvious edge to her voice, and using a term of endearment for him for the first time, "I love you immensely. But please – please don't speak for me when I'm capable of speaking for myself. Like … ever."

Shrek stared at her for a few seconds, apparently dumfounded. Then a wry smile played at the corner of his mouth. "Y'always was the feisty one," he said.

She smiled back. "Would you really want me any other way?" She hoped the question was rhetorical.

He shook his head. "Never. I love ye just the way y'are. And I'm sorry, I didn't mean to presume, but –" Shrek then glanced over to where Beaglely and Milquest stood just a few feet away, observing the two ogres and apparently hanging on their every word.

"'Scuse us. We need some privacy," Shrek said gruffly to the two men. Not waiting for an acknowledgment, he took one of Fiona's hands and led her toward the far wall of the stage. His stride was long and brisk, and Fiona had to trot to keep up.

"HEY!" she called to him, having to reach up with her free hand to make sure the crown didn't topple off her head. It had not, of course, been sized for her in her current dimensions. "Slow down! This is NOT dignified!"

"'Not dignified!'" Shrek mimicked her, swinging back to face her as they came to a halt by the wall and relative isolation. "Fiona, would'ja listen to yourself?! You're startin' to talk just like y'did b'fore!"

Fiona's eyes squinted in confusion as she tried to follow. "B'fore – I mean, before … what?" she asked.

"You know!" he said, getting a bit flustered and his speech becoming more rapid, "B'fore yesterday! B'fore 'We got off to a bad start, let's try again' – b'fore th'eggs n' the bandits n' the web candy n' the balloons n' the weedrats n' – b'fore EVERYTHING!"

Fiona offered a small, mirthless grin. "So," she said, with a touch of self-reproach, "I wasn't very good at being a princess, is what you're telling me."

"No, that's NOT what I'm sayin'," he replied, "I'm saying you're not good at actin' like some shallow, cookie-cutter, cara— cara— oh, what's that word—"

Fiona lifted an eyebrow. "Caricature?" she offered.

"Yes! Exactly!" he said, "Like some shallow, cookie-cutter caricature of some silly fairy-tale version of a princess!"

But Fiona's expression turned even more downcast. She stared down at the floor absently and caught a glint of shiny metal. She casually leaned down and picked up what she recognized as her wedding ring – the one Farquaad would have placed on her finger had she not had them skip that part. Apparently, in his enthusiasm to create his own cue card, Thelonious, not the sharpest tool in the shed, had simply tossed the pillow with the valuable solid gold rings aside and hers had rolled here. She turned the heavy piece of jewelry over in her hands, hands with ring fingers twice too wide now to fit it. She sighed and tucked the ring into one of the folds of her dress.

Shrek sighed also, stepped forward, gently laid a hand on either side of her face, and tenderly lifted her head so she was looking at him. "Listen t'me," he said softly, "I'm just sayin' you need to quit actin'. Just be who y'are. 'Cause ye ARE a princess – or queen, or whatever royal title anybody kin' think up. Everything about ye says it. There's no need to go actin' like somethin' less than y'already are."

She smiled. "You're sweet," she said, appeased at his words if not yet entirely convinced. "Is that what you brought me over here to say?"

"No," he replied, "I wanted to tell ye we need to get goin'."

"But why?" she asked.

Shrek looked a bit hurt. "So I could show you the swamp. I – I thought you wanted t'go."

"I DO," she countered, "but that was before – I've got responsibilities here now!"

Shrek's jaw dropped for a moment, then he said, "You're not seriously considerin' becomin' their QUEEN are ye?"

"It's not a choice," she said, "I AM their queen now. Didn't you hear Beaglely?"

"I don't CARE what Eagle— er, Bagel— er, WHATEVER his name was said," Shrek said, starting to loose his temper somewhat, "ye can't stay here!"

"Why not?" she asked, "I mean, at least for a while. It's not like the swamp's going to disappear—"

"Because **I** can't stay here, alright?!" he finally spat out, "and YOU an' – an' ME, we—I mean – well, you know. B'sides, I don't trust 'em."

"Don't trust WHO, exactly?" she asked.

"Hey, guys! What's the holdup?" Donkey inquired.

"G'AAH!" Shrek and Fiona both gasped in surprise as they looked down to see Donkey had suddenly appeared beside them. They quickly shot glances over to where they had thought Donkey had been. Dragon was alone now; she lay on her stomach, her head propped up by one paw, her other paw strumming the floor with its fingers. She looked utterly bored.

"Donkey, fer someone who's so loud o'mouth, ye sure ere quiet o'foot," Shrek observed irritably, causing Fiona to have to suppress a giggle.

"Oh. Sorry 'bout that, man. Didn't mean to startle ya," Donkey apologized, "but don'cha think it's time we hit the road?"

"That's just what I was sayin', t'her" Shrek said.

"No," Fiona corrected, "what you were ABOUT to tell me was who you didn't trust."

"ANY of 'em!" he replied testily, "humans – NONE of 'em kin be trusted."

Fiona raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" she said, "that's rather a broad net to cast, isn't it? A bit judgmental, in fact. What was that thing about not judging people before you got to know them?"

"This – this's different," he said, retreating a step in his argument.

"Besides, you may recall **I** was human," she added.

"That's right!" Donkey chimed in, "In fact, Shrek didn't even know you were – well, you know, your secret – 'til we got here. He wanted you just like you were before – you know, pretty an' thin an' stuff, not like you are now!"

Fiona bit her lip and looked away, while Donkey cringed under the seething glare Shrek gave him.

"I – uh –" the animal stuttered, "I mean … now that you're REALLY gorgeous!" He offered Fiona a big, uneasy, toothy grin.

Fiona chuckled despite herself, then turned back to Shrek. "So," she said to him, "you really didn't know – despite what you said this morning?"

"This mornin'?" Shrek echoed, his eyes narrowing as he tried to think of what she might be talking about. Then it struck him, and his eyes popped wide open in horror of what he recalled.

"Oh, God, I didn't tell ye!" he exclaimed, pounding the side of his head. "Oh, Fiona, I'm so sorry! When I heard you talkin' last night about 'who could love a horrible, ugly beast,' I thought you wuz talkin' 'bout ME, not YOURSELF! What I said t'ya, this morn' – God, that musta' really hurt!"

"Yes," she said, wincing a touch at the memory of his cruel words.

"I'm SO sorry!" he wailed, "I was SO wrong. Can ye forgive me?"

Fiona saw the sorrow emanating from his face. She offered as reassuring a smile as she could muster, and reached out to stroke his cheek. "It's alright," she said, "that's one of the things lovers do, they forgive each other. Besides, we're both still learning. I guess communication's one of those areas we've got to work on."

He took her hand and kissed it, then looked back at her, his face taking on a quizzical expression. "But, when ye stepped away from Farquaad – when ye said ye meant to show me b'fore – why... ?" He left the question hanging.

She reflected for a moment, then replied, "This morning you said you'd HEARD what I said last night, not that you'd SEEN – anything. Then, after you came rushing down the aisle and said what you said, I figured you'd had a change of heart. But after what you'd just put yourself through for me, I decided you deserved to see – everything – for yourself."

Fiona then simply looked at Shrek and smiled. "Besides," she said, "there was just something I was able to read in you that went beyond words. I guess it was -- I don't know -- a kind of sixth sense."

Shrek smiled back at her, but Donkey immediately became flustered. "Sixth sense?" he sputtered. "You mean … you're able to see the ghosts of dead people now?!"

"Huh? Oh -- no, Donkey," Fiona said, taken off guard by his unexpected reaction but trying to sound soothing, "it's just an expression that --"

But it was too late. "Oh, great!" the agitated animal continued, "It's bad enough going through that castle and seeing all the dead people who were -- well, DEAD -- but now hangin' around somebody who sees 'em walking around 'n stuff like they're still ALIVE?! Oh, man I dunno if I can take this --"

As Donkey continued his fit, Shrek and Fiona looked at each other and shared a small "what can you do?" grin and shrug. Meanwhile, Dragon, observing her equine companion from a few yards away, allowed herself an amused grin at his adorable quirkiness.

Suddenly Donkey, who had taken to prancing in a tight little circle as he spoke, came to a total halt in both movement and speech. He found himself looking at Beaglely, who had walked up to within a few feet of the group but was now simply standing there, quite still, his pallid features expressionless.

"AHHHHH!!" Donkey screamed, "IT'S CATCHIN'! NOW I'M SEEIN' 'EM, TOO!"

With that, Donkey quickly dove behind Shrek, who rolled his eyes heavenward and shook his head. But Shrek then turned his gaze -- a very unfriendly gaze -- toward Beaglely. "I thought I told ye we wanted some privacy," the ogre growled.

"Yes, I know," Beaglely said, entirely unintimidated, then walked up even closer to stand within a yard of the ogres.

Shrek began to take a step towards Beaglely but then felt Fiona's retraining hand on his arm.

"What is it, Mr. Beaglely?" she asked.

Beaglely addressed Fiona. "I take it you're debating whether to remain her in Duloc or to take your leave with your ... friend."

"Yes," she replied, a bit uneasily, "we were -- uh, getting to that."

"There's something you should know," Beaglely continued, his voice just over a whisper, "Please don't be overt, but take a look behind me and to my right at the soldier wearing the ornamental sash -- he's by the wall near the front row of pews."

Shrek and Fiona's eyes shifted to observe the person as Beaglely had directed, while Donkey peered out from behind Shrek's legs directly at him.

"Yes," Fiona said, keeping her voice as low as Beaglely's, "I noticed him earlier. He doesn't look particularly friendly."

"Not only that ..." Shrek said thoughtfully, forgetting his irritation with Beaglely for the moment, "I've seen him before --"

"Hey, yeah!" Donkey said, his voice not exactly a whisper, "ain't that--"

"Donkey, keep your voice down!" Fiona said, as she observed Beaglely actually wince at the animal's outburst.

"Shrek," Donkey said, his voice obediently lowered, "that's the soldier that was chasin' me through the woods that day we met -- y'know, when I ran into ya. The guy that was roundin' up all those fairy tale people."

"Aye, i'tis," Shrek agreed, then looked suspiciously at Beaglely. "What about 'im?"

"That's the Captain of the Guards, Captain Gledius," Beaglely replied. "He is in charge of the Duloc military. All soldiers and guards of all stripes report to him. In turn, he answers only to the leader of Duloc. Up until a few minutes ago, that was Farquaad. With Farquaad gone, and since he left no heirs, that leaves only one person Gledius reports to." Beaglely paused, then addressed Fiona directly again. "And that is to you, Your Majesty. If you decline the monarchy and choose to leave Duloc, that will create a power vacuum -- one that I am quite certain that Gledius will fill with a military dictatorship."

Fiona stood, stunned, at the enormity of the weight that Beaglely had just placed on her shoulders. She felt speechless.

Shrek, however, felt no such inhibitions. "Okay," he said, "then why can't ye just arrest this Gledius right now, b'fore we leave, if ye feel he's so frickin' dangerous?"

"Aside from the fact he hasn't actually DONE anything yet," Beaglely replied with veiled reproach, "Gledius is just the main symptom of the larger disease, that being the power vacuum itself. There are other would-be tyrants in the military ranks. Without the stabling influence of the monarchy, I fear that, even if Gledius himself is removed, we would end up with a dictatorship."

"So?" Shrek challenged, "What's the big deal? Sounds to me pretty much like what ye already had under Farquaad."

"Perhaps," Beaglely conceded, "but judging from the character of our new queen, I would say that Duloc would be much better off under her reign."

Shrek's lip curled in distaste. "Stop tryin' to suck up to 'er," he said.

"I'm just stating a deduction based on my observations," Beaglely responded flatly, "or do you disagree?"

Shrek just glowered at the man for a moment longer, then turned back to Fiona. Her face still bore a mixture of fright and uncertainty.

"Fiona," Shrek entreated, "please -- please don't let this guy confuse ye. This isn't what ye bargained for. Please let me take ye away from all this."

"But Duloc --" she began.

"Duloc be hanged!" Shrek retorted. "Let the humans play their little power games 'n sort out their own little intrigues. It's what they're good at. Don't put yerself in the middle o' all that. Ye might get hurt. And I-- I couldn't stand that--"

Shrek's voice, which had begun to crack ever so slightly, trailed off. He looked down, brought his hand to his mouth and loudly cleared his throat, then quickly and as surreptitiously as possible swiped at his eye so as to stanch the tear he felt welling there. But his efforts did not go unnoticed by Fiona, who felt herself fall a little bit more in love with the man.

"Oh, my Love," she said softly to him, "I really wish we could both go away this very moment. I belong to you. You belong to me. I know that. But I-- I can't just walk away. Not right now."

"Yes, you can!" Shrek implored, "Their little 'power vacuum' is not your problem!"

A small, ironic smile played at the corner of Fiona's mouth. Shrek's words were so like the ones she had used herself after their escape from the dragon's keep when he had insisted that they go to Duloc so that he could turn her over to Farquaad, complete his quest, and disappear back into blissful, solitary obscurity. The uncouth, stubborn, self-absorbed ogre and the pristine, obstinate, self-centered princess. God, was that only two days ago? Yes, two days and a lifetime away. So many things had changed since then – in every conceivable sense.

Fiona forced her thoughts back to the present, and looked at Shrek. He stared at her, his big eyes pleading. He was not thinking about the irony. He was only thinking about her. She offered a sad smile and said, "Yes, I'm afraid it is. It became my problem when they pronounced me Queen."

Shrek opened his mouth to protest, but then simply let out a sigh of resignation. Something about Fiona's demeanor – the quiet but firm way she had spoken those words, the way her face was set – told him that further argument would be an exercise in futility. He simply settled for saying, "Too bad I couldn't 've arrived a few seconds earlier n' prevented that." He then cast an accusatorial glance at Donkey, who cowered slightly then looked back up at his friend with one of his big apologetic grins.

Fiona shook her head. "No," she said, "it's nobody's fault but my own. It's time I started taking responsibility for my actions. And that's why I can't leave while Duloc needs me." She laughed at that. "God, sounds like some kind of hubris, huh?"

Shrek smiled sadly but did not laugh. "No," he replied, "it sounds like some special kind of lady."

She chuckled mirthlessly, then her eyes drifted downward and she said slowly, "You – you know you don't have to stay here if you don't want to. I mean, I know that this isn't exactly your type of place, and you'd probably feel uncomfortable here. So don't – don't feel obliged to – I mean, I don't want to make you feel you have to– "

But he took her upper arms in his large hands, prompting her to look up and lock her eyes with his. He looked back at her intensely as he began to speak. "Fiona, I just came here directly from my swamp. It was a place where bein' alone used t'give me the greatest pleasure of my life. But bein' there alone – after bein' with you – t'was nothin'. NOTHIN' – without you there t'share't with me." He sighed heavily. "I really want to take ye back there right now, Fiona. I really think I can make ye happy there. But if ye feel ye need t'stay here – well, I know now I'd be happier bein' with ye in hell than bein' without ye in heaven. So I can guess I can manage stayin' here m'self. For a while, anyways."

Fiona found herself speechless. She felt tears start to well in her eyes again, and then felt herself starting to lean forward toward Shrek once more. He leaned toward her also. Their eyes closed as their faces drew near each other, but just before their lips touched, Donkey spoke.

"Aawwww, that's so sweet!" Donkey said, "Shrek, m'man, I didn't know you had such a way with words!"

The mood deflated, Shrek and Fiona reopened their eyes and drew back away from each other. Shrek's face showed his irritation at the interruption, and the sight of it caused Fiona to smile shyly, which in turn prompted Shrek's initial scowl to melt into a grin as well. "It's easy, Donkey," he replied, still looking at Fiona, "when you're inspired."

"Oh, yeah, I know all 'bout 'inspiration!'" Donkey said, and cast a glance back at Dragon. She smiled at him, and he returned it – but it was a smile that was not entirely easy on his part. The first complimentary words he had spoken to Dragon were inspired not by affection, but rather by terrified self-preservation – a fact that he hoped she would never learn. For like Shrek, Donkey had a girlfriend with a fiery temper. But unlike Fiona, Dragon could express hers literally.

"Excuse me," Beaglely said, stepping forward again.

Shrek turned to glower at the other interloper. "What is it NOW, Eagleby?" he grumbled.

"'Beaglely,'" Beaglely corrected.

"Whatever," Shrek shrugged dismissively, and missed the chastising little glance Fiona threw his way.

"Yes, Mr. Beaglely, what is it?" Fiona asked, her tone more polite but not entirely void of irritation itself.

"Your Majesty," Beaglely began, "I'm not an emotional man --"

"Noooo, really?" Shrek gibed, then let out a little "oof" as Fiona slightly elbowed him in the gut. She nodded for Beaglely to go on.

"However," Beaglely continued, unperturbed, "having witnessed everything that I have today, I can't help but feel you are the type of monarch capable of the compassion necessary to try something that has been tried very few times in history. And it is something that I think will solve both your own dilemma, and Duloc's."

Both Shrek and Fiona showed peaked interest at these words. "Well, go on man, spit it out!" Shrek encouraged.

Beaglely opened his mouth to go on, then checked himself. "Not here," he said, "we need a place with more privacy. Might I suggest your royal council chamber, Your Majesty?"

"My – oh, uh, sure," Fiona said. "But I'm afraid I'm not familiar with –"

"Not a problem," Beaglely said, "but there is one other important principal we need to join us. That would be --"

"Uh -- excuse me, Your Highness," a skittish voice from a few yards away said. The group looked over to see Mayor Milquest standing there, fidgeting with his hat as he addressed Fiona. "The -- uh -- congregation is wondering if -- well, if everything is over and it is acceptable to you -- " he cast a nervous eye toward Dragon, then back to Fiona, "if they may be dismissed..."

"Oh, of course! Please do," Fiona acceded, surprising herself by having forgotten the large congregation altogether.

"Thank you, Your Highness," the mayor said, obviously relieved, and quickly strode back to the front of the stage and addressed the crowd in his loud officious voice, "Friends and neighbors of Duloc! The Queen thanks you for attending the wedding and – um – hopes you had an enjoyable – no, uh, well, INTERESTING time! May we ALL live in interesting times! And, uh, well, you may return to your homes! Thank you for coming, and good night!"

Shrek shook his head at the pompous little politician. Then he spoke to Beaglely again. "Okay, Bagely –"

"'Beaglely,'" Beaglely corrected.

"Yeah, yeah, _Beaglely_. Who's this other important person that needs t'join us?"

"Mayor Milquest," Beaglely said, nodding to the politician who still stood at the front of the stage. The mayor was perspiring somewhat and still working the brim of his hat nervously as he waved every so often to one or the other members of the congregation as they made their way down the aisle and out the main doors.

"Great," Shrek mumbled to himself, "just great."

Beaglely then waved to Gledius, who had not moved from his spot at the side of the church. "Captain!" Beaglely called, "A word, please!"

Gledius's face turned from a mild scowl to surprise to something resembling fright in quick succession as his gaze moved from Shrek to Beaglely to Dragon. He swallowed, tried to neutralize his expression, and then began slowly walking toward the stage. Meanwhile, Shrek, Fiona, Donkey, and Milquest all looked at Beaglely with surprise of their own.

"Man, what're you doin'?!" Donkey asked, somehow remembering to keep his voice low, "I thought you said--"

"I did," Beaglely whispered back, "but we need to establish who's in charge and let him know we're not afraid of him."

"Even if we ARE?" Donkey persisted.

"ESPECIALLY if we are," Beaglely replied.

Donkey cocked an eyebrow as his face took on a familiar, perplexed look. He started to say something else, but Shrek shushed him as Gledius came within hearing distance. The captain mounted the steps to the stage, his gaze still shifting between Beaglely and the dragon. He seemed to be trying to ignore Shrek, and didn't even seem to acknowledge Donkey's existence.

"Yes?" Gledius said, halting in front of Beaglely and trying to act as emotionless as the town manager.

"First," Beaglely said, "perhaps you'd like to pay your respects to our new queen."

Beaglely stepped aside. Fiona looked awkwardly from Beaglely to Shrek, who was keeping a wary eye trained on Gledius. She then took a few tentative steps forward until she stood directly in front of the captain.

Gledius just stared at her for a few seconds, then said, "Your Majesty," kneeled, and bowed his head.

Fiona stared down at him, taken somewhat aback. Recovering after a few moments, she said, "Oh! Uh, please arise, Captain!"

As Gledius stood, Donkey could contain himself no longer. "I guess the shoe's on the other hoof now, huh?!" he chided the captain. Gledius looked down at the animal, surprised at the outburst. "Oh, yeah, you recognize me, don'cha?" Donkey continued. "Not such hot stuff now, like you was actin' out in the forest pushin' little wooden puppets and dwarves around, huh?"

Gledius's brow furrowed in anger for a moment, and he started to say something. But then his eyes drifted again to the dragon, who had keyed off Donkey's lead and was staring down the captain with fiery eyes.

"What'sa matter?" Donkey prodded, "Dragon got'cha tongue?"

Dragon smiled coyly, and allowed the tip of her own tongue to slide across her lips as she continued staring at Gledius, as if she were expecting a meal. The captain had visibly started sweating.

"Donkey, stop it!" Fiona said sternly. She looked to Shrek for support, but he was smirking as well, apparently enjoying the berating.

"Actually, Donkey's gotta point," Shrek said, staring at Gledius, "this guy tried t'arrest me, too." Shrek then turned and looked at her, and added, "Just fer bein' an ogre."

Fiona blushed, not knowing what to say to that. Gledius, his voice starting to tremble, spoke to her. "I was just obeying Lord Farquaad's orders, Your Majesty."

"Oh, really nice excuse," Shrek scoffed.

"Yeah. And they call ME an ass!" Donkey tossed in.

Gledius continued to speak to Fiona, trying to ignore the other creatures' scorn. "I apologize if, in retrospect, my service to my previous liege does not meet with your approval. But I live to serve Duloc and my loyalty is to her rightful ruler. _Your_ will is now my command."

Fiona still seemed at a loss for words, so Beaglely quickly stepped in. "Then I think the queen would like an escort to the castle now. Wouldn't you, Your Majesty?"

"Oh," Fiona said, "uh, yes, that would be nice. If you please, Captain."

"Very well, M'lady," he said, then with an askance glance at Shrek and Donkey – and Dragon – hurried back down the steps.

Shrek and Donkey chuckled as they watched the captain depart. Meanwhile, Beaglely and Fiona silently watched _them_, he with checked annoyance, she with somewhat less constrained pique.

"Donkey," Shrek said mockingly, "I don't know if you were able t'smell it, but I believe our brave capt'n has had a li'l accident."

"You kiddin'? 'Course I did!" Donkey laughed, "I think that guy's one prime candidate for Depends!"

Their laughter picked up, and Fiona's green face started taking on a definite reddish hue. She marched the two steps to where Shrek stood and struck the front of his shoulder hard with the heel of her palm, forcing him around to face her.

"OW!" the ogre said, as both his and Donkey's laughter suddenly transformed into surprised silence. "What was THAT for?"

"What do you THINK that was for?!" she somehow managed to yell and keep her voice down at the same time. "What do you call THAT?! What in the world were you trying to accomplish?!"

Shrek smiled and replied, "Relax, Sweetheart. I was just –"

"WE was just," Donkey corrected, with some pride.

"Okay," Shrek granted, "WE was just puttin' a little fear o'God into the man. One thing I've learned in all my years o' wardin' off uppidy humans, is that intimidation goes a long way 'n keepin' them in line. And besides, Beasley here DID say we should let the man know who's in charge."

"Yes, I did," Beaglely conceded, still restraining his own irritation, "but I did NOT say we should provoke him. That could prove … counterproductive."

Shrek guffawed. "But the man's a coward!" he said.

"True," Beaglely allowed, "but he's a coward with power. And they can be dangerous. Farquaad himself, as you may recall, was too cowardly to attempt to rescue the princess, preferring to employ a surrogate. Yet, if not for the timely arrival of your large friend there –" he gestured to Dragon – "neither you nor the queen would be in very comfortable circumstances right now, and would be at his mercy."

Shrek thought about that for a few moments, grumbling to himself. He hated being bested by this ferret of a human, and especially hated it since Fiona was agreeing with him.

"I guess he's right, Shrek," Donkey said consolingly, "maybe you shouldn't 've been so hard on the guy."

Shrek glared down at Donkey. The animal looked back up at him, apparently without a clue as to why the ogre looked angry. "What?" Donkey asked innocently, cocking a confused eyebrow again.

Before Shrek could reply, Gledius was back. He had ten armored soldiers in tow. "We're ready to leave when you are, Your Majesty," he said to Fiona.

Fiona looked over to Beaglely, who nodded. "I guess we're ready to go now," she said.

"Hold on a sec," Shrek objected.

Fiona looked over at him, a bit confused now herself. "What is it, Shrek?" she asked.

"With all DUE respect," he said, looking from Beaglely to Gledius, "I'd like t'add my own 'security arrangements.' Never can be too safe, y'know." He looked down to Donkey again, and jerked his head toward Dragon. "Come on," he said, and led the animal over to their guardian, where the three had a brief huddle.


	5. Chapter 3: Dragon's Playmate

Chapter 3: Dragon's Playmate

Lieutenant Phineas Maximus, a dark-haired, handsome man of twenty-four who stood second in command of the Duloc guards despite his youth, awoke in the street. He sat up slowly, shaking the cobwebs from his head as he tried to take stock of where he was and what had happened. Twilight had nearly completed its fade into nighttime darkness. Maximus figured about a half-hour to forty minutes had passed since just before sunset, when all hell had broken loose. He gazed down the street at the Town Square in front of the church. Several torches lit the area, and he quickly scanned it and saw with relief that, despite an unusual amount of human activity, there was no sign of the dragon.

Maximus reluctantly forced the memory back into his mind. He had been standing there, in charge of the contingent of troops guarding the outside of the church as Farquaad's marriage proceeded within. They had been ready for many things, but a huge fierce dragon suddenly dropping down within their midst was not one of them. His men immediately panicked and scattered. To his credit, Maximus had been the last to take flight. Although his initial reaction to the monster's sudden appearance was bone-numbing fear, he HAD briefly attempted to rally his men as the beast paused – it looked as if to have a short conversation with a … a donkey? Perhaps, Maximus wondered in looking back, if the events of those few seconds had driven him temporarily mad and made him start seeing things. At any rate, his futile attempts to rally his troops abruptly ended when the dragon had turned and, picking his form out as the closest of the solders that had been guarding the square, it started chasing him. He had screamed then, turned and ran as hard as he could.

He had gone almost two blocks straight down the street before its incredibly long stride overtook him. It knocked him down to the ground with a simple flick of its paw. Maximus found himself on his back, staring up at the saurian's incredibly huge head. Its teeth loomed large as the creature sneered at him. Its lips were very red – almost as if the thing were wearing lipstick. Of course, that was a silly thought – sillier even than a talking donkey. Much more likely, Maximus surmised, the lips were stained with the blood of scores of other victims. He also noticed for the first time the odd chandelier that spanned its neck. Maximus actually began to laugh at the ludicrousness of the sight. He realized, in retrospect, he truly _had_ been on the verge of insanity.

Maximus had then rolled to the side and scrambled to his feet. His flight option gone, he clumsily drew his sword for what he had no doubt would be his last fight. "Hold, b-b-beast!" he called, not really knowing why, and brandished the sword shakily before him.

The dragon drew back. Had he not known this was just a stupid monster, Maximus could have sworn it smirked at him. Then it lowered its head, wagged its tail, and with little effort blew a small (by its standards) black puff of smoke that engulfed him. Maximus was blinded and his lungs stung. He coughed and wheezed and started swinging wildly with his sword, sure that the smoke was a ploy to screen the monster's imminent attack. After he had performed this routine for a minute or so, Maximus collapsed down to his knees, exhausted. After he had rested a short while and realized he hadn't been eaten yet, he opened his watering eyes to see the dragon lying on the ground a few yards away from him. It was resting its massive head on one of its paws and – Maximus was convinced of this now – SMILING at him. "Do you think this is FUNNY?" he said, surprising himself. He was even more surprised to see the beast nod and – did the thing actually CHUCKLE? Then the dragon's smile faded, its slit-pupiled eyes grew narrower, and its lips started to curl back. Maximus gulped, crossed himself and prepared for the worst.

Fortunately, something intervened. The dragon's head suddenly perked up and swung around back in the direction of church, its ears erect and attentive. A split-second later it was off, spreading its wings and taking flight toward the building. Shielding his eyes from the swirling dust and debris generated by the creature's backwash, Maximus could still see the church in the distance down the street he had just ran, and saw the dragon flying towards it. Suddenly, near the front of the church, an animal came limping forward – Maximus thought it was the donkey he had seen earlier. With incredible dexterity and without breaking stride, the dragon swooped down, gathered the equine in its paw, and tossed it onto its back where it clung for dear life onto the chandelier. Maximus felt a brief pang of pity for the small animal; no doubt the dragon had decided to save it for a future snack. At any rate, after collecting its passenger the dragon quickly soared around the back of the church and a moment later Maximus heard the distant sounds of glass smashing and people screaming. It was then that he fainted.

Now Maximus picked himself up, glumly sheathed the sword he found lying uselessly beside him, and started making his way toward the heart of the commotion in the Town Square. He wondered how much carnage the monster had inflicted inside the church. The personal fear he had felt was slowing being supplanted by a growing sense of shame in his failure to do his job of guarding the church, although he couldn't think offhand what else he could have done. The realization that he would have the rest of his life to scour over alternatives already started to gnaw at him.

Oddly, as Maximus neared the noisy clumps of people, he realized this was not a group of mourners at the site of a tragedy. These people actually seemed HAPPY. Maximus shook his head in disbelief – maybe he had gone mad after all. He looked around to see if any of his troops had returned. None had. For all he knew, they were still running.

A middle-aged commoner passed by. The man had a grin on his face and a fresh tray of twenty or so 16-ounce paper cups full of beer strapped to his midsection. He was heading toward the celebrating crowd, and no doubt hoping to make a bit of profit from their celebratory mood. Maximus reached out and touched his arm, startling him and causing him to spill a little beer from each cup.

"I'm sorry," the lieutenant said apologetically, "but could you please tell me what happened here?"

"Whad'ya mean?" the man asked, overcoming his surprise and, oddly, still happy despite the slight spill. A brief whiff of the man's breath told Maximus that the man had conscientiously tested his product. However, he did not seem so inebriated so as to be incomprehensible – or delusional. Enough to loosen the tongue, but not so much as to muddle the brain. Finally, Maximus thought, he had caught a break.

"The church – the wedding – the dragon – what happened?" Maximus asked.

"Weren't you here?"

"No."

"You missed quite a show!" the man said. "Just after Farquaad and the princess got married and became king and queen, a big green ogre came chargin' in the building --"

"Ogre?!" Maximus exclaimed. For a moment he didn't know how such an event were possible. Then something in the back of his mind clicked in. Didn't he see a patch of green moving toward the church somewhere behind the dragon? Yes, the more he thought about it, the more it seemed right. The closer and more imposing image of the dragon – and its apparent "conversation" with the donkey – had driven the "incidental" ogre sighting from what was left of his mind.

Meanwhile, the beer vendor continued. "Yep, he ran right up to Farquaad and the new queen. Then the queen changed into an ogre and –"

"WHAT?"

"The queen. She turned into an ogre, too. Green skin, big body, weird ears – the whole shtick."

"How did that happen? Did the ogre cast some spell on her?"

"Don't think so. Actually, I think she already had one on her. After the dragon showed up and ate Farquaad she –"

"The dragon ATE Lord Farquaad?"

"Yep. Gobbled him right down. Funniest thing I saw in my life!" the man laughed. The laughter disconcerted Maximus. He knew that Farquaad was hardly the most beloved ruler in the world. But to see such jubilance at his demise…

"So Lord Farquaad is dead," Maximus said, mostly to himself.

"Yep," the man confirmed happily, "unless, of course, he's flopping around down in the dragon's belly like Jonah in the whale!" The vendor laughed at that.

"How—how many other dead?" Maximus asked, afraid of the answer.

"What? Oh, none! Just Farquaad – and HE deserved it, y'ask me. After the queen turned into an ogre he sicked the whole army on her 'n the other ogre. Farquaad kept fussing 'n screamin 'n carrying on – and all the ogres wanted t'do was be together. Farquaad said he was gonna torture the guy ogre and lock the queen up the rest o' her life. So the guy ogre let go this big whistle, and just like THAT – " the vendor snapped his fingers "-- the dragon showed up and gobbled Farquaad down. Then the donkey crawled up on top the dragon's head and told us not'ta move, then –"

"So there WAS a talking donkey!" Maximus said, relieved at the vendor's corroboration.

"Huh?" the man said, thrown off temporarily by the interruption, "Oh, yeah. Him and the dragon seemed to be friends. In fact, they ALL seemed to be friends. 'Course, the ogres themselves were more'n friends with each other, ifyaknowhaddimean –" the man winked conspiratorially and nudged Maximus with that. Disappointed at the lieutenant's lack of reaction, the vendor continued.

"Anyway, then the ogres kissed and there was this big explosion –"

Maximus glanced up at the church when he heard that. Indeed, he could see that there was not a window left intact. He shifted his glance back down and saw shards of stained glass lying on the ground at the base of the church. Some maintenance people with wide brooms, large dustbins and thick gloves moved about the debris. They were tossing the fragments into large garbage vats that had the words "Welcome to Duloc!" and a cartoon image of Farquaad's face printed on their dirty, battered sides.

"— she looked so happy," the man was concluding. "And then they kissed again. Sweetest darned thing you ever saw." The man's eyes actually started to tear at that. "Anyway, then there was the ceremony where they crowned her queen. Then the guy ogre tore up those consarned cards and told us all we're free to think 'n speak for ourselves now, and then a little while later after some more jabberin' on the stage we couldn't make out they let us all go."

"And nobody was hurt in the explosion?!" Maximus asked, aghast.

"Nope. Well, it wasn't a real explosion. It was a – I don't know, a magic thing. The girl ogre, see, we figured she'd had a spell on her that made her human sometimes, and when the guy ogre kissed her the spell got broke. She started glowing and then – poof! – There was this big wind blew over us and busted out the windows and left her lying there on the floor."

"And she was still alive?" Maximus asked.

"Yep."

"And unhurt?"

"Yep."

"And still an ogress?"

"Yep."

"So our queen's an ogress?"

"Yep."

"And people are content with this?"

"You bet!" the man said, "So far, she seems better that the dwarf! Oops, sorry. Didn't mean that. It's an insult to dwarves!"

Maximus fell silent, mulling over what he had learned.

"Uh, excuse me," the man said, "but if that's all—"

"Oh," Maximus said, "thank you. And here – something for your trouble," he fumbled with a pocket and pulled out a couple of gold coins. He handed them to the men, whose eyes glowed and smile broadened at the sight.

"Why, thank you, young man!" he said, "If you'd like a beer –"

"No, thank you," Maximus said, and again started to lose himself in thought.

The man shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, then headed off toward a nearby group of gabbing potential customers. "BEER, here!" he started hawking, "COLD beer!"

Maximus stood where he was, absorbing the vendor's story and gazing around the square. There were maybe a couple of hundred people, divided into several small groups, milling about it. Some groups were simply gabbing with each other, apparently reliving their impressions of the happenings inside the church judging by the hand gestures. Some groups were carrying small musical instruments and playing impromptu jam sessions – something Farquaad would have loathed, as he insisted all music performed within the town limits be officially sanctioned by him, with due copyrights claimed by him for any original music composed by any Dulocian. Another group, however, showing less benign contempt for the former Lord, had slung a rope around a twenty-foot bronze statue of Farquaad that stood near the center of the square and were trying to pull it down from its pedestal. Maximus thought he'd best do something about that – he looked about him and did note a few armor-clad soldiers milling about. Some of them looked as bewildered as he felt, while others seemed as caught up in the revelry as the other townspeople. None of them were of his command, but Maximus decided he'd commandeer them until he saw Gledius –

Just then, there was the sound of a great whooshing of wings as the dragon flew out of the church through the window by which it had entered, then began circling around the top of the structure. People looked up and gasped. The musicians immediately ceased playing to gaze at the sight, and the would-be vandals dropped their rope. Maximus's hand immediately went to his sword hilt as he just managed to stifle a scream.

But then the dragon alighted atop the church, folded its wings and simply sat there, looking down on the town square like some huge, animated gargoyle, its yellow eyes shining, the rest of its body more dully illuminated by the light of a big, bright, nearly full moon. Its eyes scanned the various people, then picked out Maximus. The corner of the beast's mouth then broke a little grin and the thing – WINKED at him! Maximus just stared back, a shiver going up his spine, and swallowed a lump that had suddenly crept up his throat.

At that point, both church doors were opened and out stomped Captain Gledius. Behind him came the ogre and ogress, tightly locked arm-in-arm. Maximus recognized the queen's dress, although the body it adorned was now considerably different. Her hair color and style were all else that Maximus could recognize from the lithe princess that had entered the church. But no – wait – there was something about the face and eyes – it WAS the princess! Maximus had not seen her human face for long – a short glimpse as she walked past his post – but it had been a face whose beauty had immediately engraved itself in his mind. It and her captivating body had looked almost like living artwork; a walking, breathing tribute to the female form. Now to see that ravishing beauty mutated into this – this hideous THING – the tragedy nearly broke Maximus's heart. She marched lockstep with the huge male ogre, leaning against him as if for support – but apparently not _physical_ support, as her eyes seemed to be casting about self-consciously at the gawking crowd. The ogre's eyes were also active, but Maximus recognized by the sharpness of those eyes and the set of his jaw that he was keeping watch, not for looks of approval or disapproval, but for threats. Mayor Milquest, who bore his usual plastered-on smile and every so often waved to the crowd, followed the ogres. Milquest was in turn followed by Beaglely, the city manager, lugging his ever-present briefcase, who may as well been going for a stroll by himself in the park to judge by his impassive demeanor. Bringing up the rear of the group was – the donkey. It was also keeping a wary eye on the people around it as it walked, but unlike the ogre, its look betrayed a little more personal discomfort. It glanced up and saw the dragon at its perch – and seemed to take some comfort from the sight. It smiled up at the great beast, and the dragon smiled back – a much more pleasant smile than the one it had lavished on Maximus. The little group was flanked on either side by a line of five soldiers, and the whole contingent began moving along a path that made a beeline to Farquaad's castle.

The ogres looked up at the colossal edifice looming before them. With nightfall, banks of special rotating spotlights were automatically activated that alternately bathed the entire castle surface in blue, red, yellow, and green pastel lights. Maximus knew the illuminated structure could be seen for miles. This close, it was particularly impressive – and imposing. The queen openly gasped as she looked up at it, and even the male ogre seemed impressed.

The many people that had filled the square quickly formed two rough lines on either side of the path the group was taking, and enthusiastically clapped and cheered. Many chanted the name of the queen, and a few chanted "Shrek." Maximus wondered at first if they were throwing insults, but soon deducted that this must be the name of the ogre.

Suddenly the Dulocian press and paparazzi descended on the little group, quills scribbling madly on parchment notepads as barrages of camera bulb flashes yielded a strange stroboscopic effect to the already surreal scene. Gledius and his men had to shove the more overly eager of them aside as they continued onward toward the castle.

"Your Highness!" one reporter called, "Do you have anything to say to your new subjects?!"

"Your Majesty!" another cried, "What reforms do you plan for your new regime? Do you anticipate a possible tax cut?!"

"Your Grace!" a female reporter yelled, "_New Bride_ magazine here. Could you please tell our readership where they can get the expandable wedding gowns?!"

"Queen Fiona!" came another voice, "You've just won your True Love's heart and become the ruler of Duloc. What are you going to do now?!"

Just then a little girl of seven or eight with bright yellowish-blond hair stepped into the path the group was moving down, a few yards ahead of them. She just stood there, holding her hands behind her back and looking innocently at Gledius as he led the group straight towards her.

* * *

Captain Gledius marched forward, sweeping away the occasional pesky photographer. As he came upon the little girl standing directly in his path, he looked down, curtly ordered, "Make way for the queen!" and signaled with his sword for her to step aside. The small girl froze like a deer caught in headlights, and stared up at his ominous figure. "I said MOVE, you little brat!" Gledius added impatiently. The little girl's eyes grew wide with fright and she started to cry.

"HEY!!" a sharp, loud female voice sounded from behind Gledius. He turned as Fiona released Shrek's arm and strode forward, her face flushed in anger, her searing blue eyes locking on him. Not a hint of fear or uncertainly could now be detected in her suddenly impassioned demeanor. Amazingly, near total silence fell across the Town Square. No quill scratched paper, and no camera flashes disturbed the night.

Fiona halted in front of the stunned Gledius. "Look, PAL," she snarled, punching her right index finger against his breastplate and knocking him back a step, "I don't know WHO you think you are, but NOBODY talks that way to little girls around here! Not on MY watch, anyway!"

Gledius's mouth just hung open for a moment. The ogress was not as physically imposing as her male counterpart, but she did stand Gledius's height and was almost twice as broad. The way she had started unconsciously flexing her large hands into fists as she stared him down did not ease his anxiety. "I – uh – my apologies, Y-Your Highness," he finally stammered, "As p-per standard procedure, I was – um – just trying to make way for—"

Fiona shook her head in disgust. "Just get away from me," she growled, and roughly shouldered past him to get to the little girl. Fiona softened her features and looked down on the girl's face; the youngster had ceased crying and was looking back up at Fiona with something like awe. Fiona knelt down so that she was closer to the girl's height, and offered the youngster what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Hello," Fiona said, her tone gentle and soothing. "I'm sorry if that man frightened you."

"It's okay," the girl said, taking one hand from behind her back and wiping an eye, "that short guy was meaner."

"You mean Lord Farquaad?" Fiona asked.

"Yeah," the little girl said, then asked hopefully, "is he really gone, now?"

"Really, really," Fiona assured her.

"And you're our queen?"

Fiona hesitated, then replied, "Yes. Well, for a while, anyway."

"This is for you," the girl said, then took her other hand from behind her back and offered what it held out to Fiona. It was a sunflower.

"Why – thank you," the ogress said, taking the flower and sniffing it. "It smells very nice."

"It's pretty," the little girl said, "like you."

Fiona stared at the little girl, struck silent for a moment as the smile dropped from her face. Then a new smile started playing at the corners of her mouth as she asked, almost in a whisper, "Do you really think I'm pretty?"

"Really, really!" the girl replied enthusiastically, "Even more than that other red-haired woman that was supposed to be our new queen. The one you changed places with. You have nicer ears."

Fiona chuckled. "You like my ears, huh?"

"Oh, yes!" the girl said. "May I touch them?"

Fiona hesitated again, then said "Sure. Here." She removed her crown, then leaded forward and lowered her head. The little girl reached up and ran her fingers around the edges of one of Fiona's long trumpet-shaped ears. At one point Fiona giggled and said, "careful – that tickles!"

"They're soft!" the little girl exclaimed as she pulled her hand back.

"Um-hum," Fiona nodded, then asked, "What's your name?"

"Goldilocks," the little girl answered.

"Goldilocks. That's a nice name. And very apt. I'm Fiona. I want to thank you very much for the flower, Goldilocks."

"You're welcome … Fiona," Goldilocks replied.

"Now, let me give something to you in return." With that, Fiona reached into the fold of her dress where she had tucked her wedding ring. "Show me your hand."

Goldilocks held her hand out, palm upward. "Here," Fiona said, and placed the ring on her palm. "This is a little too small for me. It's yours now."

The little girl looked at the ring, then picked it up off her palm and stared at it for a moment, her eyes wide. "Wow!" she exclaimed, "It's so shiny! And heavy!"

"Um-hum," Fiona nodded.

Goldilocks slid the ring over one of her fingers and back off, her face taking on a frown. "But it's too big for me," she said, sounding disappointed.

"You'll grow into it," Fiona assured her, "one day it will fit just right. You just hold onto it for a few years, and maybe one day when you meet a big brave man that you want to marry, that can be your wedding ring."

Goldilocks thought about it for a moment, then pointed past Fiona at Shrek and asked, "Somebody like him?"

Fiona looked back at Shrek as the ogre smiled shyly. "Maybe," Fiona said, a twinkle in her eye as she winked at him, "IF you're lucky." Shrek then blushed and looked down.

"Now," Fiona said, looking around her at some of the faces in the crowd, "where are your parents?"

"I – I don't know," Goldilocks replied, becoming a bit frustrated, "I just got back from – from playing out in the woods, and I – I can't find my home." Tears started to well in her eyes.

"Can't find your home?" Fiona repeated, surprised. When Goldilocks nodded and started weeping, the ogress added, "There, there, now." She wiped the girl's tears with the hem of her dress. "We can't have that. Let's see if we can't find your home for you."

Fiona scanned the crowd a bit more, and her inquiring eyes lit upon a young soldier that was staring at her with something less than the warmth and acceptance that most of the other Dulocians seemed to be demonstrating. "You, soldier!" she called to him.

"Me?" the solder asked, taken aback.

"Yes, you," Fiona said, "what is your name?"

"Lieutenant Maximus … Your Highness," he replied, and offered a late but well executed bow.

"An officer. Good. Lieutenant, I want you to take this girl and find her home. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Yes, my … Queen," the officer said. He came forward, knelt down and offered the little girl his hand. "Come with me, young lady. We'll find your home for you," he said softly to her.

Goldilocks looked at his outstretched hand skeptically at first, then looked back to Fiona. "Go ahead, you'll be alright," Fiona said, nodding her support.

"Okay," Goldilocks said warily, and took Maximus's hand. Both he and Fiona stood.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Fiona said, smiling at the solder and replacing her crown.

"Your Majesty," Maximus said, bowing again to her. After he arose, and just before he turned to lead his charge away, the look in his eyes as he beheld Fiona disconcerted her. For in that look she saw … pity.

As Maximus led Goldilocks away, the little girl turned around and waved at the queen. "Good-bye, Fiona," she said, "thank you."

Fiona's face broke into a smile. "Thank YOU for the flower, and the kind words," Fiona called, "and say hi to your folks for me!"

Goldilocks nodded, turned, and she and Maximus passed into the crowd. As the little girl disappeared deeper into the milling throng, Fiona's smile became more uncertain. Then she felt an increasingly familiar hand gently alight on her shoulder.

"Are ye all right?" Shrek whispered.

She nodded and gently laid her hand on his, but still seemed somewhat morose. Shrek sighed, then grinned mischievously as a thought came to him. He reached up with his other hand and playfully flicked her ear. "Ticklish, huh?" he asked coyly.

Fiona turned to face him, and couldn't help but giggle as she saw the glint in his eyes. "Don't even THINK about it," she said with mock seriousness. Then, heaving a heavy sigh, she turned to face Gledius. Her expression quickly changed to sternness bordering on contempt.

"I think we can manage the rest of the way by ourselves. You may be relieved, _Captain_," Fiona said coldly, then turned and started up the path toward the castle.

The crowd, mostly silent since Fiona's initial chiding of Gledius, suddenly broke into loud applause.

Gledius stared after her, dumbfounded. Shrek also stared after her, a feeling of proud admiration warming him. He turned to Gledius, jerked a thumb towards the departing ogress, smirked, and said, "Yeah. What she said." Shrek then turned back and trotted after her.

Milquest, not certain of how to react in yet another unscripted environment, offered Gledius a quick little apologetic grin as he hurried past him. Beaglely followed after Milquest, not looking at Gledius at all.

Donkey, as he passed Gledius, did stop. He looked at the embarrassed captain, then closed his eyes and snootily turned his nose up and away as he gave a dismissive "Humph!" He then pranced along after Beaglely,

Gledius and the soldier escorts just stood there, watching the entourage make its way to the castle. The ogre had quickly caught up to the queen, and his fierce warning glares where doing as well as the soldiers' efforts had in keeping overly-anxious reporters and spectators at bay. Most of the crowd stared after the little group, their applause continuing. Every so often someone would glance back a Gledius, and almost always their face would betray either contempt or ridicule. As the guards at the castle doors made way for the queen and her escorts to enter, Gledius's own face took on an expression of deep loathing. The gears of his mind, temporarily clogged by shock and embarrassment, now started turning in sinister directions.


	6. Chapter 4: Making Camps

Chapter 4: Making Camps

Maximus was feeling rather good about himself as he left the "Lost Parents" station. Then he looked over the roofs of the relatively short shops and homes across the mile or so distance to the top of the church. The dragon still sat there, patiently waiting upon its perch, facing toward the taller castle across the street from it where the queen and her companions had entered some half hour before. So transfixed was Maximus upon this sight that when a hand fell upon his shoulder from behind, he nearly screamed as he swung around and grasped the hilt of his sword.

Gledius stood there, a look of surprise on his face from Maximus's reaction. "Whoa, Lieutenant!" he said, "I didn't mean to startle you!"

"Captain!" Maximus exclaimed, feeling his face turning red as he came to attention and saluted . "I apologize, sir. I—"

Gledius returned the salute then waved off the apology. "No need, Lieutenant," he said, "it's been a trying day for all of us." His mood turned testier as he asked, "So, where's the brat?"

"The little blond girl, sir? I just sent her with an escort to her mother," Maximus replied, "it turns out that she's one of the children of that old woman in the big shoe. She's on her way to join them in the resettlement facility."

"Not the one in that swamp we just cleared out?"

"Oh, no, sir. It's the new one we moved them all to instead."

Gledius nodded. Then he gave a short, bitter laugh. "Figures the little urchin would turn out to be one of those fairy tale freaks." He then gave a little snort and added, "Actually, that explains a lot."

"Explains a lot … of what, sir?" Maximus asked, puzzled.

"The girl was obviously a plant," Gledius stated matter-of-factly.

"A plant, sir?"

"Of course. It was all part of their plan," Gledius replied, sounding quite sure of himself.

Maximus did not find his puzzlement being abated a great deal, despite Gledius's apparent confidence in his position. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't understand."

Gledius sighed deeply, then began speaking slower and more deliberately. "Lieutenant, do you really think it was just a coincidence that that girl would show up on the path like that and provoke that confrontation? One that just happened to make me, who was just doing my duty, look like the ogre, and that oversized green troll look like a blasted goody-two-shoes heroine?"

"Well, sir, I—"

"Of course not!" Gledius finished answering for him. "Any more that it was a 'coincidence' that, as soon as the 'princess' had lured Lord Farquaad into taking the vows that all her cohorts suddenly showed up and, surprise-surprise, our new king winds up in a dragon's belly and she winds up with Duloc's crown!"

At the mention of the dragon, Maximus's eyes darted back to the church top, as if to ensure it was still there and had not suddenly shown up just behind him. He quickly refocused on Gledius. Gledius had apparently had noted Maximus's distraction, as there was an odd glint in the captain's eye.

"I'm sorry, sir," Maximus said, "I—"

Gledius again waved the explanation away. "I don't blame you for abandoning your post, Lieutenant," the captain said with a sigh, apparently misreading the reason for Maximus's distraction but causing the lieutenant a pang of guilt all the same, "I was inside the church, but couldn't keep the beast from dispatching our new king. Of course, it would have been useful if you could have given us SOME warning, but I'm sure there's a reason why you did not do so."

"There WAS, sir!" Maximus objected, "I—"

Gledius waved him off yet again. "It doesn't matter now," he said, "it's just water under the drawbridge. It might even been part of the enchantment."

"Enchantment, sir?"

"Oh, yes," Gledius said, his voice suddenly becoming lower and his eyes shifting about him to make sure no one was taking an interest in their conversation. There were a few passers-by – most with a more noticeable bounce to their steps than normal – but non seemed to be paying the officers much attention. So Gledius continued, "I'm pretty sure that either our so-called queen is herself an enchantress, or she had help from one, what with all the supernatural effects she conjured up in there. For that matter, I wouldn't be surprised if as part of the show she managed to hypnotize the more weak-minded of our citizenry into coming over to her side. That would explain the otherwise inexplicable celebration that permeated that mob outside the church, and their willingness to accept that creature – actually PREFER that creature – to their own kind."

Maximus considered that for a few moments. He supposed that was POSSIBLE, but—

"What about Mr. Beaglely and the mayor, sir?" Maximus asked, "do you think THEY could be enchanted – if YOU couldn't?"

Maximus immediately bit his lip, realizing too late how the captain might take the question. Although Gledius's eyes flared for a moment, his quickly seemed to calm down and even broke into a grim little smile. "It's possible," the captain said, "but it's also possible that they're part of the scheme – the conspiracy, if you will – to overthrow Farquaad and take over Duloc."

"Conspiracy?!"

"Oh, yes, Lieutenant," Gledius replied ominously, then gestured in the direction of the royal castle, currently – and appropriately – bathed in green lighting, "I'm sure the cabal is meeting at this moment, probably rewriting Duloc's laws to cement their little coup. They'll probably begin by freeing those other fairy-tale freaks and allowing them back into Duloc. They might even allow them to start moving into Duloc proper! Can you imagine that, Lieutenant? Having those – creatures – underfoot and around every corner? Stealing our jobs? Polluting our youth? Lowering our property values? Demanding access to all parts of Dulocian society – even allowing them into our MILITARY?!" Gledius visibly shuddered. "I tell you, Lieutenant, as sworn defenders of Duloc, our duty DEMANDS that we take action to stop all this!"

Maximus's head was starting to spin and his stomach to churn. "But our allegiance to the leadership—"

"Was to the RIGHTFUL leadership," Gledius interrupted, "which was Lord Farquaad. In fact, I would think that part of that allegiance would include the prosecution of the villains who overthrew that leadership. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I – I guess so," Maximus reluctantly conceded, "but even if we in turn overthrew the queen – well, who would rule Duloc then?"

Gledius sighed. "A good question, Lieutenant. Which is another reason we need to act quickly, so that we can secure the Dulocian lawbooks before they have a chance to totally rewrite them. Once that's done, we can explore the code and determine the proper manner to proceed in determining legal leadership. However, in the mean time, in order to prevent Duloc from descending into anarchy and to keep everything running on time, I suppose, as head of the Dulocian guards, it's my responsibility to have to step in temporarily as military governor. It'll be a tough job, but SOMEBODY has to do it. Don't you agree, Lieutenant?"

"I – I _suppose_," Maximus responded, "but—"

"Good!" Gledius said, and threw a comradely arm about his underling's shoulders. "Together, we have a chance to make up a little for our failures!"

Maximus felt another pang of guilt as Gledius spoke those words, but then the captain continued, his voice even more low and ominious than before. "The first thing we need to do," Gledius said, slowly lifting his arm and pointing toward the distant image of the dragon, "is neutralize THAT thing."

As Maximus followed his captain's pointing finger to the dragon, the thought of taking part in the monster's "neutralization" brought a grim satisfaction. As he stared at the beast, a corner of Maximus's mouth even broke into a portentous little grin – a grin mimicked by Gledius as he studied the face of his distracted underling.

* * *

A peeved Fiona shoved the double-doors to the council chamber open and strode in, apparently not registering the way the doors slammed against the walls to either side of the doorway.

"That is NOT very helpful, Mr. Beaglely," she huffed.

"I apologize, Your Highness," an unperturbed Beaglely replied as he trailed behind her and Shrek into the room. "I was just noting that, since you had Gledius in a situation where he had lost face and favor with both his men and the general populace, that would have been an opportune time to relieve him of command. By disgracing him but not relieving him, it gives him that much more incentive to—"

"I HEARD what you SAID," she growled, swinging around to face Beaglely so suddenly that Shrek, trailing just behind her, nearly collided with the new monarch. "Why didn't you say it at the TIME?"

Beaglely simply blinked, then calmly replied, "Because we were in a public arena and you did not ask for my advice. It would not have been proper for me to have volunteered anything at the time."

Fiona stared at the placid city manager for a moment, breathing heavily, one eye involuntarily twitching. "Mr. Beaglely," she began, speaking between clenched teeth, "I would appreciate it if, in the future, if you perceive that similar – opportune – actions may be called for, I give you permission to speak to me about it. ANYWHERE. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied, "but decorum dictates that —"

"I DON'T CARE!" she thundered, causing everyone in the room to cringe except the target of her outburst.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he said, and calmly gave an obedient bow.

Fiona rolled her eyes and shook her head. Then she crossed her arms – despite her frustration, being careful not to damage the flower she still held in one hand – and turned back away from the group so that she was facing into the room.

Shrek quietly chuckled in grim satisfaction, pleased that the irritating little man was finally starting to find disfavor with Fiona. "I STILL don't understand why ye just don't go an' arrest the guy and be done with it," he said, sensing an opportunity to pursue his earlier argument.

"Because he hasn't done anything wrong yet," Beaglely calmly repeated his earlier reason.

Shrek was about to rebut Beaglely's answer, but Donkey, who had followed into the room along with Milquest and had also witnessed the exchange between the fiery ogress and unflappable manager, had his own pressing question. "Hey man, what IS it wit'cho, anyway?" Donkey challenged Beaglely, "You have your emotion chip removed or somethin'?"

Beaglely blinked, then looked down at the animal, who was looking back up at him with one eye cocked in curiosity.

"I beg your pardon?" Beaglely asked.

"I mean, you never get mad or happy or scared or nothin'. What gives? Ain'cha human? 'Cause, y'know, around here ya never can tell if –"

"I assure you," Beaglely interjected, "I'm quite human."

"Then why—"

"OH, WOW!" Fiona gasped, finally realizing her surroundings.

The council chamber was huge. Each of the walls was paneled with ornately engraved wood, and on three of the walls was mounted a large painting featuring Farquaad. One painting was a simple portrait of the man wearing a decorative military uniform, a look of smugness on his face, his large chin jutted out and one hand held just inside a flap of his vest. Another portrait featured a fully armored Farquaad driving a lance through the heart of a large writhing dragon; the beast's hideous face was twisted with pain while Farquaad's face bore a peaceful expression, his eyes were turned heavenward and a shiny halo was painted around his head. The last portrait showed a determined looking Farquaad striking a commanding pose, standing in the bow of a rowboat as his soldiers paddled it through an icy river.

The furnishings were equally impressive. A large rectangular wooden table sat in the middle of the room. Five finely polished chairs sat on either side and at one end. But at the other end – the apparent head – sat a most impressively ornate chair – finely polished and carved wood, with a backrest that alone stood some four feet tall. Both the backrest of the chair and its seat were cushioned and covered with red velvet. It was obviously Farquaad's chair, something easily deduced from the commanding position it held at the head of the table, its grandeur, the large gold "f" that was sewn into the velvet of the backrest padding, and the wooden platform that the chair's legs sat on that made the seat a foot taller than any of the others at the table.

Fiona walked slowly toward Farquaad's chair as Shrek gestured to the portraits. "So," Shrek asked, "are any o' these things based on real life?"

"That one is," Beaglely answered, pointing to the one of Farquaad with his hand in his vest, "Lord Farquaad had just had that suit made, and wanted a portrait done to commemorate the occasion. Unfortunately, it itched."

Fiona wasn't listening to the banter. She was taking in more of the room as she wandered toward the council table – the elaborate chandelier that hung from the tall cathedral ceiling, the expensive designer chairs, tables and divans that sat against the walls. She finally reached the table, and ran a finger along the sleek varnished arm of Farquaad's chair.

"At least the insignias will transfer smoothly," a voice said over her shoulder. Fiona turned with a start to see Milquest standing there. He shrank back a bit at her reaction and quickly stammered, "I'm sorry, your Highness, I didn't mean to startle you!"

"That's all right," Fiona replied, raising her hand to her chest to catch her breath, "I'm sorry, Lord Mayor. What was that you were saying?"

"The insignia," Milquest explained, pointing to the "f" on the chair. "Farquaad. Fiona. Both names begin with that letter. So we won't even need to change the insignias – which believe me, around this town would mean quite an expenditure in community funds!"

Fiona turned and stared at the insignia – one of some hundred versions of the letter she figured she had seen since arriving in Duloc that morning. She shook her head and broke a small, involuntary smile. Her former husband's egocentricity truly knew no bounds.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," Milquest apologized, "I didn't mean to joke—"

"No, it's all right, Lord Mayor," Fiona said, "it's just … well, in all my fantasies of what it would be like to finally marry royalty and become a queen, I never considered what it would be like to actually _rule_. I always pictured myself pretty much as Farquaad probably pictured me – a quiet partner to my husband, a titular queen exercising no real power of her own. I guess I figured in the land of 'happily ever after,' problems just kinda took care of themselves, like magic."

"'Titular queen'?" Donkey echoed, having overhead their conversation, "Say, is that some kinda official name, or are you just callin' yourself that 'cause you're so well end–" Just then Shrek's foot came down on one of Donkey's hooves, causing the animal to abort his question with a howl of pain, "OWWWW!"

"Oops! Sorry, Donkey," Shrek said, smiling meekly at Fiona and giving a little shrug. Fiona smiled and looked away shyly, blushing slightly. As she did so, her eyes fell on the large double-paned window doors that opened onto a balcony. She walked to the window doors, opened them, then stepped onto the balcony. The first thing that caught her eye was dragon, standing watch atop the church. She saw Fiona and made a thumbs-up sign with her paw, a questioning look on her face. Fiona returned the thumbs-up gesture, and nodded tentatively. Fiona was still having a hard time getting used to thinking of the beast as an ally – let alone a sentient being with loves, dreams, and aspirations of her own. To Fiona, she had always been a _thing_ – the fierce guardian of her castle-prison, more a force of nature than a life form. Another instance, Fiona thought, of the danger of judging someone before you got to know them.

Fiona then looked down below her at the crowds that were still milling around the streets, torches burning, music playing, as they continued to celebrate their freedom. Here were other people with loves, dreams, and aspirations of their own – most of which were suppressed in the choreographed conformity that marked Farquaad's reign. She thought back on the implication of Milquest's remark. Replace Farquaad? No – she could not see herself doing that. Even if she managed to be a benign ruler, would she be effective? And even if she were effective, would she survive as a constant target for schemers and plotters, to whom the kingship or queenship was but a goal to satisfy their power-hungry quests? And even if she survived, what would become of Duloc afterwards under her successors? Her successors – normally her children. But children borne to whom? To Shrek? She bit her lip. It would be so much to ask of him – to stay here with her in a life she knew he'd detest. It wouldn't be fair. In fact, the more she pondered such a life, the less she liked it herself. Her thoughts briefly drifted back to the impromptu campfire dinner she and Shrek had enjoyed just the day before. It had felt so good – so _right_ – just to be with him there in the open outdoors, with the beauty of nature all round, sitting on a sturdy log "bench" with the aroma of freshly cooked meat in her nostrils and its savory taste on her tongue. Even when she found out the source of the meat was hardly what most would condone as fit for a human, let alone for a princess, it had not dampened her enthusiasm. And she still recalled the unexpectedly alluring appeal of the way Shrek spoke about cooking similar meals for her when she visited his swamp. She remembered, during that dinner, looking toward the horizon at the castle she now occupied, and realizing for the first time, with the goal she had been dreaming of all her life seeming literally to be in sight, that perhaps that goal was a chimera after all. And now, looking back on it all, she realized that just as her true love and love's true form had taken drastically different turns from what she had expected, perhaps her ultimate fate led her toward fulfilling her life in a style drastically different from the one that her royal heritage would imply. Yet she did not find that thought frightening – in fact, she rather liked the idea, the adventure of going off with Shrek, just the two of them, free of the pomp and trimmings of royalty to face a rustic life together. Unfortunately, for now, she felt the responsibility of that royalty tethering her like an anchor.

Fiona looked down at the sunflower she held in her hands, and a small smile played upon her lips. There would be no need to pick its petals to make her decision between living her life with Shrek or living it as a queen. It was finally so clear to her. She suddenly understood that, without that anchor of responsibility, not only would she actually be glad to leave – to fly away with Shrek just as he wanted her to – but the chances of her having regrets afterwards were remarkably slim. But first, before abdicating her monarchial role, she had to do something to ensure that another would-be Farquaad could not too easily step into it. And that odd little town manager seemed to believe he knew how she might be able to do it.

Fiona turned and walked back into the room with resolution. "Mr. Beaglely," she said, "I believe you—"

Fiona checked herself as she saw two men appear in the room's open doorway. They were dressed as commoners, each carried what looked like a toolbox in their hands, and one held a large furry brown bundle under one arm. "Uh, excuse us," one of them said, looking over the odd assortment of personages in the room with some perplexity, "is Lord – or King – Farquaad around?"

Fiona was about to answer when Shrek beat her to it. "Not bloody likely," he said, "who are you, anyway, and where the devil have you been this evenin'?"

The same man answered, "We were asked to do a rush job – new shag carpeting with extra padding in Lord Farquaad's bed chamber. He said he really needed it ready by his wedding night."

"Why would he be in such a hurry to have carpetin' with extra paddin' in his bedroom by his weddin' night?" Donkey asked, confused. The carpet worker started to say something, then just shrugged. Everyone else looked away innocently, and Fiona found herself blushing again.

"I – I can't say for sure," the carpet worker finally said, "he didn't tell us. Anyway, the job's done, but we need to know what to do with this rug he had sitting in there."

The worker nodded to his second, who undid the furry brown bundle he held. It turned out to be a bear-skin rug, but this bear wore a pink ribbon on its head.

"Hey!" Donkey exclaimed, "I know that rug! I saw her just the other day! She… she…"

Donkey then fainted dead away.


	7. Chapter 5: New World Ogre

Chapter 5: New World Ogre

In his nightmare, Donkey opened his eyes to find his field of vision filled by the frowning, angry face of his cronish former owner. "I said TALK!" the old woman demanded.

Donkey, frozen with fear, could only stare back at her. Suddenly another face crowded in next to the hag – the face of Gledius, wearing his arming cap just as Donkey had first seen him back in the forest. "You'd better make it talk NOW," the captain said to her, sneering at Donkey, "I've wasted enough of my time on this dumb animal."

The owner glared even more angrily at Donkey. "I SAID TALK!" she shouted, and drew her hand back as if ready to slap him.

Panicked, Donkey tried to speak – but found that for some reason he couldn't. It was as if his vocal chords were paralyzed. Frightened, he tried to run, but found he had no control of his legs. That was when he looked down, and found to his horror that he had no legs – or body either. He was only a head that had been mounted as a trophy on a plaque.

Yet the old woman persisted. "TALK, YOU STUPID DONKEY!" she yelled, and slapped him across one cheek. "COME ON, DONKEY!" she coaxed, and slapped again across the other.

Suddenly the images of the old woman and Gledius began to grow dull, then blurred out altogether. After a moment, the faces started growing sharper again – but they were now different. Where the old woman's face was before, Donkey now saw the face of Shrek, smiling reassuringly down at him. Behind his shoulder, looking down at Donkey with concern, was the face of Fiona. "Come on, Donkey, wake up," Shrek was saying as he patted Donkey firmly on one cheek, seeking to revive his companion.

Donkey shook his head, trying to complete his trip back to consciousness. "Oh, man, what a nightmare!" he moaned as he gathered in his surroundings. He found he was still in the council chamber, laying on a rug – and quickly hopped to his feet and looked around the rug to see if it might be someone else he knew.

"It's okay, Donkey," Fiona said, smiling soothingly, "we've put it way."

"After all," Shrek added, not quite understanding his friend's distress, "it was just a bearskin rug."

"Whaddya mean, JUST?" Donkey responded, "I saw her an' her husband an' kid get caged up back in that forest where Gledius was gatherin' all the fairy tale folk up fer Farquaad, and those bears was talkin' and EVERYTHING. So, 'scuse ME if I get a little antsy seein' other NOT-so-dumb animals bein' turned inta floor coverins!"

"Okay, okay, sorry!" Shrek said, waving his hands, palms outwards, in a gesture of surrender.

Meanwhile, as Fiona had been listening to Donkey's explanation, her eyes had grown narrower and she had begun to grind her teeth. Now, after a moment's contemplation, she shook her head, spat out the word "Farquaad," as if it were some sort of obscene curse, and turned back to the council table, where the two humans were now seated. "Mr. Beaglely," she said, "you claimed to have an idea of how to make the ascension of such – _people_ – less likely. Let's hear it."

"Yes, Your Highness," Beaglely said, then glanced back toward the room's double-doors. After the bearskin rug had been stuffed into a closet and the carpet workers were dismissed, he had re-shut the doors and made sure they were latched. Having verified they were still secured, he swung his briefcase onto the table and worked a small combination lock. Then he opened it, and took out a large, brown-leather-bound book that he laid on the table. "This is the code of the province of Duloc," he said. "It establishes the government framework through which services are proved, taxes are collected, etc.. It has been expanded over the past few years through the exertions of Lord Farquaad to add more stringent regulations on the people themselves – tighter dress codes, curfews, building ordinances and other things to make Duloc a 'more orderly' place. However, as Lord Farquaad was more concerned with the effects of the new laws rather than the mundane business of implementing them, most administrative functions are handed via the mayor and town council, which are elected by the people and then must be approved by him before they may take office."

"What, ye mean the people picked Milktoast here directly?" Shrek asked, jerking a thumb toward the mayor, who looked somewhat taken aback.

"That doesn't sound like a very … Farquaadian … idea," Fiona observed.

"Actually, it was something I lobbied him for," Beaglely said, "I was able to convince him that giving people such a choice would both appease the populace, making them believe they have a voice, and make Duloc seem that much more of 'a friendly place' in the eyes of the world. I noted that since he had power to influence what candidates the people would have to choose from, and would retain veto power over anyone they might elect, he would be able to ensure that only people to his liking could hold office."

"So," Shrek said, "for someone like the mayor here t'get elected he had to suck up to both Farquaad AND those lemmings out there."

"Just a moment!" Milquest said indignantly, "I resent that remark! I work very hard for the people of Duloc!"

"An' ye pander to 'em real good, too," Shrek responded. "I heard ye in the church. An' goodness knows how shiny Farquaad's boots got from you lickin 'em."

Milquest's face turned red in anger, but he checked himself from saying anything to the physically imposing ogre, who had drawn himself up to his full height and looked down at the mayor with a challenging glint in his eyes. Milquest felt his resolve melt, and he looked away. It was a sickening feeling that he had suffered on some meetings with Farquaad when the Lord had some grandiose (and usually self-aggrandizing) project or occasion he wanted to push through that had come into some conflict with the people Miquest represented – the dislocation of homes, the need to raise taxes, etc.. On each of those occasions, Milquest had backed down, too.

Shrek gave a dismissive "huh," then turned to Beaglely and jerked his thumb toward the mayor again. "Just why'd ye think we need him here anyway? What good is he t'us?"

"Because," Beaglely replied, "as – imperfect – as the mayor is, he does represent the method by which we may free Queen Fiona here from her commitment to Duloc, while giving the people here an alternative to the dangers of despotism or anarchy that could result. It's a system by which the people elect ALL their rulers by equal ballot. In its purest form, there's no need for kings or queens at all. It's called 'democracy.'"

"'Democracy'?" Donkey asked, seeming to chew out the unfamiliar word, "it sounds Greek to me."

"Actually, it IS Greek," Beaglely responded, "the Athenians, for example, had a democracy centuries ago –"

"Which didn't work out all that well, if I recall correctly," Fiona observed, "at least according to the history books that were left in my tower. I believe that Plato referred to it as 'Mobocracy'."

Shrek's ears picked up. "Really?" he said derisively, "Well, I've dealt with mobs all my life. Emotional, bigoted, unstable, half-cocked idiots. Frankly, given a choice, I'd prefer Farquaad."

"But it CAN work," Beaglely asserted matter-of-factly.

Shrek just waved him off dismissively and turned to Fiona. "Trust me, Fiona," the ogre said to the ogress, "the man's livin' in a world of fantasy!"

Fiona gave a heavy sigh and dropped her eyes to the floor as her ears drooped. "I'm sorry, Mr. Beaglely," she said with reticence, "but I don't see this as a realistic solution."

"But it can work, it WILL work!" Beaglely insisted, his voice actually taking on an emotional plea.

"And just what makes ye so blasted sure?" Shrek pressed.

"Because I've SEEN that it will work."

"Oh?" Shrek asked mockingly, "Do ye travel in time, or do ye got yourself a crystal ball?"

"Neither," Beaglely responded, "I've got this…" And with those words, he reached into his briefcase and appeared to undo part of the lining. From this apparently secret section he withdrew a small bundle of papers. He handed a few sheets of them to Fiona.

"What's this?" she said, squinting in perplexity. She then read the heading at the top of the front paper. "'_The Constitution of the United State of America'_?" She looked up at Beaglely, her perplexity unrelieved. "I don't get it," she said, "what IS this thing?"

"Just what it says," Beaglely replied. "It's the constitution of a nation that doesn't exist yet, which resides on a continent not yet discovered. It won't exist for several centuries. But when it does, it will become a nation that will be larger than all the kingdoms of Europe combined – and it is governed as a DEMOCRACY … there is NO monarchy at all."

Fiona stared, dumbfounded, at Beaglely for several seconds. Then she looked over at Shrek – and saw that he was also gaping in near horror at the little man. Shrek then noticed Fiona, saw her dubious expression, and returned it. "He's mad," Shrek stated, simply and sadly. "The man's stark-raving mad."

Both ogres then turned in concert to Milquest, who was also staring incredulously at the town manager. "Did you know about this, Lord Mayor?" Fiona asked.

Milquest continued staring at Beaglely's implacable expression for a few moments more, then shook his head as if breaking out of a trance. "Uh, no, Your Majesty," he replied with some reluctance, "I'm afraid I wasn't familiar with this … document."

Beaglely looked over at Milquest, who shrugged apologetically back at his associate. Beaglely then spoke one word: "Merle." After a moment's confusion, Milquest's face took on a look of recognition, then understanding.

"Merle," Milquest repeated, nodding to himself as if suddenly everything in the world had become clear.

The ogres, however, turned to look at each other and saw that they shared the same confused expression.

"Uh, 'scuce me," Donkey chimed in, "but is that 'Merle' thing 'sposed t'be some sorta magic word to make everything make sense? 'Cause I kin tell ya now it sure don't work on DONKEYS."

"Ogres, either," Shrek added.

"Lord Mayor," Fiona said, trying to restrain her growing frustration, "if you could please explain—"

"Oh, of course!" Milquest said, then began, "Several years ago a sorcerer visited Duloc – well, RETIRED sorcerer, he claimed. He only does occasional contract work now – or did then. He told us to just call him 'Merle.' Wonderful singer, too, incidentally. Sang these catchy songs he said were from some 'western country' – although he never did mention its name. There was one song in particular I liked; it was a story about some mythical land called 'Muskogee' that was inhabited by these peculiar square creatures called 'Okies,' and –"

"At any rate," Beaglely interrupted Milquest's digression, "Merle did some jobs for us back then; installed things like our P.A. systems, the camera in the puppet stand by the gate, the castle spotlights – a number of ingenious new devices we'd never thought of before. When we asked him where he learned about such wonders, he said he learned it in the future. Or rather, OUR future. Merle, you see, was born IN the future and ages BACKWARDS. Some of the things he found of value to keep around were copies of important documents that impressed him. This 'Constitution' was one such document."

Fiona stared skeptically at Beaglely for a few moments, then looked over at Shrek. The ogre rolled his eyes and made little circles in the air next to his right ear with his right index finger, letting her know what he thought of Beaglely's story. Fiona then turned to Milquest.

"Lord Mayor?" she asked.

"Oh!" Miquest stammered, "Well, uh, that's about it. That's the story that Merle told. Except I didn't know about the 'Constitution' part."

"And that's just what it is," Shrek scoffed, "a STORY. If ye wrote all that stuff down I'd know just what to do with your _story_, and it's – well, it's not somethin' I can say in mixed company."

"Actually, Merle himself did write something down," Beaglely said, and began shuffling though the papers he still held. "I really didn't understand its significance until today – ah, here it is." He withdrew one paper and handed it over to the ogress. "Merle said to hold on to that, that he believed I might find this useful one day. He wouldn't explain any further than that, just winked at me and said 'you'll see' when I asked."

As Fiona started reading, Shrek asked Beaglely, "So, it never crossed your mind that this 'Merle' fella might not be a con artist trying to hoodwink ye?"

Beaglely shrugged. "It really didn't matter," he replied, "the work he did for us didn't really require belief or unbelief – it only required results. Lord Farquaad, among other things, was a very … results-oriented person. As long as he got the ends he sought, he really didn't care if the means entailed employing a sage or exploiting a lunatic."

"Uh-huh," Shrek responded, unimpressed, "and what'ere became of this … one-time sorcerer … anyway?"

"He just decided to leave one day," Beaglely replied, "said he wanted to travel to the orient for a while, see the great wall going up, maybe even meet Budda before he died. He said he probably wouldn't be back here before the Roman Empire fell – or re-rises, for our perspective. It's hard to tell how to phase things when talking about Merle. Giving me that paper" – he nodded toward the ogress – "was the last thing he did before leaving."

"Riiiiight," Shrek said, somewhat condescendingly, then gave a small shake of his head and turned toward Fiona. "Look, Sweetheart," be began, "I –"

Shrek stopped short when he saw Fiona. She looked to be frozen as she stared at the paper she clutched with white-knuckled hands. Her wide-eyed face had grown so pale it had almost resumed its human hue.

"Fiona, what is it?" Shrek asked with concern as he hurried to her side and looked down at the words on the paper, written in bold calligraphy. He read the short paragraph and raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"What's it say?!" Donkey goaded, "what's it say?!"

Fiona read it, her voice trembling somewhat.

"_When the flame of freedom wavers_

_And when tyrannies oppress_

_Duloc shall find its saviors_

_In an ogre and ogress"_

Donkey's brow wrinkled. "Not much of a poem," he said, "or is it another spell?"

"No, it's a prophesy," Fiona said.

"Not really," Beaglely corrected. "since Merle had already come from the future, it's actually a type of history."

Fiona felt disconcerted, confused, and not a little scared. Nations that didn't yet exist in lands not yet discovered and ruled without monarchs? Singing, souvenir-gathering sorcerers that lived their lives backwards and pre-recorded _her_ destiny? She turned to Shrek. His eyes were set suspiciously on Beaglely, and his wide mouth was set in a disapproving frown. At least HE didn't seem confused. "What do YOU think of all this?" she asked him.

"What do _I_ think?" he echoed, looking at her. "I think that was a pretty neat lil' trick." He then shifted his gaze to Beaglely. "Tell me," Shrek asked condescendingly, "do ye do card tricks, too? Pull certain cards from the deck when ye need 'em?"

Beaglely's own eyes narrowed. "You still don't believe me?" he asked.

"Noooo, I still don't," Shrek confirmed the obvious.

"So what do I need to do to convince you?" Beaglely asked.

"Tell me why."

"Tell you 'why' what?"

"Tell me why you're doin' all this."

"For Duloc."

"HA!" Shrek's brief laugh was cutting and derisive. "Yeah, right. Let's see, exactly how long have you been workin' for Farquaad?"

"Twenty years."

"Twenty years. Really? And you and him had the best interests of Duloc in mind all that time?"

"I think we both know whose interests Farquaad was concerned with."

"Aye. But you was different, were ye?"

"Actually, yes."

"So why'd ye work for him, and why'd he hire ye?"

"He didn't hire me. He inherited me. I was the royal keeper of the law under the rule of the former king and queen. Farquaad had me stay in my position after their deaths –"

"Did Farquaad have a hand in that?"

"No. At least, I don't think so. As far as I know, their deaths were natural, following close on the death of their own newborn daughter. We think the grief had a lot to do with that. But that's another story. At any rate, Farquaad turned out to be the most cunning and resourceful of the regents who jockeyed for control of Duloc after that, and was soon able to secure its leadership. But his ideas of what power meant were adolescent and self-serving. He concentrated on the creation of things that would enhance his own prestige – the building of this castle, for instance – and cared little for the common Dulocian, except that they stay in line. That's when he turned to me, having me modify the law to add edicts about curfews, dress codes, and other regulations to keep the people more securely under his heel."

"And ye did that?"

Beaglely shrugged. "If I didn't, he would just have hired someone else who would. But after a while I was able to talk him into the idea of restructuring the government to add the mayor and city council layer for the reasons I told you before. What I DIDN'T tell you before was that this idea came to me shortly after Merle showed up and started doing his contract work for us. One day, after we became business acquaintances, he gave me the Constitution and told me of its history. He said I should keep it a secret, but I might find it handy sometime in 'my' future. That and the 'prophesy' the queen now holds. I didn't fully understand that part until today, but I did understand that the creation of the elected mayor and city council layer of government would be a step toward democratization."

"Uh-huh," Shrek nodded skeptically, "and so what was in it for you?"

"For me?" Beaglely echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, for YOU," Shrek repeated, "or would ye have us believe that you're doin' all this from some unselfish 'duty' you feel for Duloc? From my experience, nobody does nothin' unless there's somethin' in it for them."

"Indeed," Beaglely responded, "and I suppose today certainly proved that. Your charging into the church for the queen, her stepping away from Farquaad, the dragon and donkey's rescue of you both – I've not seen such a series of totally selfish acts in quite some time.

Shrek's eyes narrowed in anger and he again he took a menacing step toward the manager. But again he felt Fiona's restraining hand on his arm.

"Please, Mr. Beaglely," she said, stepping forward, "I, too, would like to know your motivations. It would seem to me that, had you simply let Shrek and myself leave, you would continue to hold your present position under Gledius or whoever the next Farquaad might be. Why did you take a chance in speaking out and casting your lot with us?"

"And why would Farquaad have put up with such an outspoken little bookkeeper before then?" Shrek tossed in.

Beaglely sighed, considered for a moment, then spoke. "I was not – 'outspoken' – under Lord Farquaad," he said. "In fact, I was quite the docile servant. It was something I learned while serving in the royal court. When the transition occurred, I continued to keep to my 'place.' Perhaps that was a mistake then. No matter now. When Farquaad became Lord over Duloc, I soon realized he was not the type of ruler who appreciated, let alone sought, advice from others on how to rule his fiefdom. So I continued to do my job, quietly and efficiently. Where I could, however, I tried to take steps to undermine his growing control – especially after I learned what I did from Merle. Today, however, I saw a rare opportunity to take direct action."

"But that still doesn't tell us WHY you were predisposed to 'undermine' his control to being with," Fiona protested. "What sparked your – your discontent?"

Beaglely paused thoughtfully for a few moments more, and then a rueful smile started playing at the corner of his lips. "Your Majesty," he began, "you may have noted that I am not the most physically imposing of persons, unlike your 'friend' here."

Fiona nodded.

"Nor was I born to privilege, as Lord Farquaad was," Beaglely continued. "I was born a lowly commoner, and grew up as the smallest, frailest boy in our village. As such, I was the last in the pecking order among the other boys. I cannot tell you how many times I was beaten up in the constant jostling that occurred in a climate where the 'worth' of a person was determined by their physical prowess alone. Eventually I developed a fatalistic attitude toward the whole situation, becoming a loner, and accepted the occasion beating as stoically as I could."

"Say, man," Donkey suddenly injected, "izzat why you don't show no fear when Shrek threatens ya, 'cause he can't do nothin' those OTHER bullies ain't already done?"

Everyone just stared at Donkey for a moment, surprised at the insightful comment. Shrek also looked a tad ashamed.

"Very astute observation." Beaglely allowed, "Perhaps so. In any event, since I wasn't much good at many of the other tasks that required some degree of strength, my parents found me a job in the marketplace, helping out with things like keeping inventory for the different merchants. My employers were impressed with my diligence, if not my stature, and soon had taught me math so that I could help out with the accounting. But more important than that, I learned about the law. I learned that, under law, we are equal – with some unfortunate adjustment for class and gender. It didn't matter if you were a two-hundred pound lumberjack or a hundred-pound cobbler. So learning the law became my obsession. I was soon the one people in the marketplace turned to when any disputes arose. I must have been arbiter of a hundred cases and served on one side or the other in as many makeshift trials. As my reputation grew, I came to the attention of the king's court, and was hired to serve as apprentice under their then royal lawkeeper."

"So you saw the law as a great equalizer," Fiona observed, "and you wanted to make it greater by removing those 'unfortunate adjustments.' When you saw this Constitution, you saw a vision of a land ruled by laws, with no kings or queens, where classes were eliminated, and everyone was equal and leaders were chosen by the people from among themselves. Is that pretty much where you stand?"

Beaglely nodded, impressed. "Yes, Your Highness," he said. "Although the Constitution itself isn't perfect – for example, there is some allowance for slavery, a sad mistake that would – or rather, _will_ – later take the lives of thousands of men to correct – it is an important step toward that goal you just stated. A step toward, as the document itself puts it, a 'More Perfect Union.'"

"So," Fiona said, turning to Shrek, "in this – this utopian ideal – people would look on each other as equals, whether they were princesses or ogres, and things like class or station wouldn't stand between them."

"Well, to a degree," Beaglely said, somewhat confused by the question, "except by definition there wouldn't BE any princesses and – well, I don't recall Merle mentioning anything about ogres, but –"

"Never mind," Fiona said, turning back to Beaglely, "I suppose you've given some thought to how this could be adapted to Duloc."

"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied, "I've written the outline of a new Dulocian constitution … although at the time I thought it was more an exercise in fantasy."

"I like fantasies," the ogress said, smiling, "why don't you show me what you've got?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Beaglely said again, then went over and took a seat at the table and laid out some other sheets from the stack in his hand. Fiona went over and sat down beside him, and began looking the papers over. Milquest wandered over to the table and quietly took an unobtrusive seat a bit further away. But Shrek wandered back to stand beside Donkey.

"Ye really think I'm a bully?" Shrek asked his friend quietly, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

"Huh?" Donkey asked, confused.

"When ye said 'other' bullies, back when you was talkin' about me and Beaglely."

"Oh," Donkey said, also keeping his voice low, "sorry, man, didn't mean anything by it. But ya gotta admit, you've been kinda hard on the guy."

Shrek watched as Fiona scanned Beaglely's documents with alert, attentive eyes. "I was just tryin' to protect her," he said.

"And maybe you was just a little bit jealous?" Donkey asked.

"Jealous? Of BEAGLELY?" Shrek nearly laughed.

"No, not ROMANTIC jealous, just jealous 'cause, y'know, he's keepin' her here as queen, when you want her to be with you in the swamp"

"Well, maybe," Shrek conceded, "but he seemed like such a pencil-necked geek… I didn't know …"

"Maybe you shouldn't have gone 'n judged him till ya got to know him, huh?" Donkey jibed.

Shrek just grunted, loathe to concede the old point.

After a moment, Donkey asked, "Say, Shrek, if you married Fiona as a queen, does that make you king?"

"Huh?" Shrek said, taken aback at the question. "Who said anythin' about marriage?"

"Oh, yeah, right," Donkey snickered, "like this thing ain't gonna end with you two marryin'."

"Well," Shrek, said reluctantly, "even if we DO get married … and I'm not sayin' we WILL … then I don't think I'd be king. Somethin' about blue blood and all that stuff. I'd be – what do they call that – a 'consort', I think."

"Hum," Donkey said, wrinkling his nose, "don't sound like much of a fairy tale endin'. Just as well it don't look like she's gonna be queen much longer, huh?"

"One can only hope," Shrek agreed, as he stared at the woman he loved as she asked Beagley about some point she had noted in his document.

Just then everyone was startled by Dragon's fierce roar from outside and the whooshing sound of her great wings. A second later something flew with great speed through the open balcony window doors, and Fiona screamed as she recognized the black-clad, pointed-hat wearing figure as a witch on a broomstick. Dragon's mouth closed with a loud snap just outside the window as she had unsuccessfully tried to intercept the airborne wiccan.

"WHOA!" the witch called after she cleared the window. The broomstick obediently came to a quick halt right in the center of the room. Unfortunately, the momentum was too great and the witch herself kept flying, crashing into the far wall and falling in a heap to the floor. The impact had loosened Farquaad's 'new suit' portrait that hung on that wall, and after a moment it fell down upon the witch. Her head punched a whole just where Farquaad's face was, and the effect was a portrait of Farquaad's body with his hand thrust into his vest, but with the witch's head now sticking out where Farquaad's used to be. Stunned, she shook her head – pale-green skinned with the hooked nose and wart that one might expect – in an attempt to clear it.

Dragon roared again from just outside the window as she peered in, trying to determine if she could do something without taking a chance on incinerating the whole room. Shrek, however, leapt forward, interposing himself between the witch and Fiona, and waved Dragon off. "I'll handle this," he called, and struck a defiant pose, facing the witch.

"Shrek, be careful!" Fiona cried out, uncharacteristically terrified, "there's no telling what it might do!"

"IT?!" the witch cackled indignantly. "Look who's talking, little miss mouse-ears!"

Fiona's fright instantly evaporated in the heat that was suddenly reflected in her blazing eyes. "Why, you scraggly-haired, wart-nosed old hag!" she growled, balling her hands into fists and moving forward.

"Whoa!" Shrek said, and held a hand out to check Fiona's advance. He then turned back to the witch. "What do ye want here?" he demanded.

The witch pushed the portrait off her head, then stood up and brushed herself off. "Where's this Farquaad fellow who's in charge here?" she asked, her own voice demanding.

Shrek began to answer but Fiona beat him to it. "Gone," she replied, "I'M the one in charge here now."

The witch looked the ogress up and down. "Really?" she asked, incredulous.

"Really, really," Fiona replied smugly, and crossed her arms.

The witch shrugged. "Well, then maybe you can do something about THIS," she said, and reached into a pocket in her black gown. Fiona dropped her arms and again took a reflexive step back as Shrek stepped forward so as to shield her better. But what the witch pulled from her pocket was a simple scroll. "This is an edict from Lord Farquaad," she said, holding it out. "He's confiscated my home for use as a 'resettlement facility' for an assortment of fairy-tale creatures. Just moved them there from some ogre's swamp, they said. Now the blasted throng's eating me out of house and home – LITERALLY."

Shrek stepped forward and carefully took the scroll. "That ogre'd be me," he said, unrolling and reading the document. It looked like something from Farquaad, all right. It bore his overly-florid signature and official seal, just as Shrek's newly re-won deed did. "But I assumed that he'd just let 'em go back to where they came from."

"WHO, FARQUAAD?!" the incredulous question came from everybody in the room simultaneously except the witch, who had apparently as little experience with Farquaad upon entering Duloc as Shrek had.

Shrek just shrugged. "I didn't really care _where_ they went, as long as they got out of my swamp," he explained, passing the scroll on to Fiona. She gave him a somewhat disapproving glance as she unrolled the scroll again and started reading it herself. Feeling a bit uncomfortable, Shrek turned back to the witch. "Anyway, what do ye mean 'literally' eating you outta house 'n home?" he asked.

"Just that," the witch replied. "My house is made of edible materials, predominantly gingerbread – although I did add a fudge brownie dormer last year – "

"Hey, I've hearda you!" Donkey spoke up from the position he had drifted to toward the far wall, away from the confrontation. "You're from that story with those two kids – the ones you tried to cook 'n eat!"

The witch rolled her eyes and heaved a great sigh of irritation. "Oh, good grief! EVERYBODY'S heard that story about those two kraut brats! The little urchins steal onto my land, start nibbling away at my modest little cape cod, end up tossing ME into an oven, and I'M the one who gets painted as the villain! Nobody wants to hear MY side of things! They just take one look at me, see an old, ugly witch, and are willing to believe the worst! It's just not FAIR, I tell ya!"

A smile played at the corner of Fiona's mouth. "Actually, I can sympathize with that sentiment," she confessed, and shared a knowing little glance with Shrek.

The witch paused, surprised at the unexpected show of sympathy. "That blasted oven was pretty darned hot, too!" she added, "Here, let me show you my scar!" With that she began to pull up the back of her gown.

"NO, NO, THAT'S OKAY!" everybody said at once.

As the witch calmed down Fiona turned to Beaglely, who was still seated at the table. "Do you have a blank scroll and quill?" the queen asked. He nodded and quickly produced them from his briefcase. Fiona walked over to the table, dipped the quill in an inkjar that Beaglely also produced, and began writing, speaking the words as she did so. "All fairy tale … beings," she said, "are to be immediately and unconditionally released from … unwarranted captivity ... unless they may be charged with a specific crime … pursuant to Dulocian law." She paused, looked thoughtfully down at the paper for a moment, and then continued writing and speaking. "From this point, all such beings are declared now, thenceforward, and forever free. Further, no fairy tale beings are to undergo discrimination within the boundaries of Duloc due to … race, creed, species, or magical origin. They are to be … accorded the same rights and privileges as human beings … no more, no less." She stopped, examined it, and then looked at Beaglely. "What do you think?" she asked.

"It's … perfect," he said, the admiration in his voice betraying a rare expression of emotion.

"Cool," Fiona said, and signed her name. As she looked up she saw that Beaglely was holding out the seal of Duloc. She took it tentatively, and stared at it for a moment. "My first edict." she said to no one in particular and gave a brief, rueful grin. She then stamped the document, turned, and approached the witch, who had been waiting and observing, hands on her hips. "Here," Fiona said, handing the scroll to her as Shrek continued to watch with a wary eye, "take this back with you and show it to any officials you need to. And tell all those fairy tale folk they're now free to go home."

The witch read the document, then nodded, also impressed. "That should do her," she said, then squinted as she looked over the signature. "Fiona … Fiona" she repeated, the name apparently ringing a bell somewhere in her memory. Then her face lit in recognition. "Of course! You're that princess that was locked up in that castle with that sunset/sunrise spell!"

Fiona raised an eyebrow. "You've heard of me?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah. We witches trade stories of all kinds of spells that one or the other of us have cast over the years or have heard about during our weekly whisk games."

"Don't you mean 'whist'?" Milquest asked from his position at the far end of the table.

"Nope," the witch replied, "we witches play WHISK." She then held out her arm and snapped her fingers. Immediately her broom, which had been levitating in its position in the middle of the room since it had halted there at her command, flew into the witch's outstretched hand.

"Please," Fiona said, an edge to her voice, "do you know the witch that … cast the spell on me?"

The witch's mouth twisted as she thought for a moment. "Nope, can't say as I remember. She wasn't in our club, at least not recently. Of course, even if I did know, I really couldn't say. Professional courtesy, y'know." The witch paused, then, nodding toward Shrek, asked, "Your 'true love', I assume?"

Fiona paused for a moment. Shrek looked back at her. She smiled at him.

"Very much so," Fiona replied, her voice tender, "at least, when he isn't driving me up a wall." Shrek smiled shyly back, blushing a bit.

"Well, then maybe things didn't work out so bad, eh?" the witch asked, stuffing the scroll into a pocket. "You two make a cute couple. Well, thanks. If there's anything I can do for you, just let me know."

"Wait!" Fiona said, suddenly remembering something herself, "There is!" She then hurried over to a closet, opened it, took out the Momma Bear rug, and carried it over to the witch. "Is it possible to … to restore her? She's the wife and mother to a couple of the fairy tale beings who are probably at your house."

"Hummm," the witch said, looking over the rug draped in Fiona's arms. She then lifted its head, examined it, peeked into the mouth from which a lolling tongue hung, then let the head flop back down.

"I've seen worse," the witch said, "Here, I'll see what I can do. It may take a day or two, but I'll see if I can't knock the stuffing back into her."

"Thank you!" Fiona said, handing the rug over to the witch.

The witch took the rug from Fiona and then straddled her broom. "Now," she said, "if you wouldn't mind clearing me with your air traffic controller out there…"

"Oh!" Fiona said, "of course. She turned to the window, where Dragon was still staring inside at them. She was apparently clinging to the balcony and stone wall. Fiona tried to address Dragon directly, but suddenly found her tongue frozen. She turned instead to Donkey. "Donkey, would you mind?"

"Huh?" Donkey said, momentarily surprised. But then he caught on. "Oh, sure!" he turned to Dragon. "You might wanna move over and let Broom Hilda by, Babe," he said, "it's okay, everything's cool."

Dragon smiled at him, and again Fiona caught that glint in her eyes that she did not believe could be possible. Dragon let go and flew back across the street, retaking her perch on the church roof.

"Okay," the witch said, "uh, thanks. And ciao!" She then pointed to the open window and spoke to her broom with a booming voice, "TO INFINITY, AND –" her last words were lost to the small group as the broom quickly whisked itself and its rider out the window and into the Dulocian night.

Fiona wandered onto the balcony and looked across at Dragon. A thought then came to her. "Donkey," she said, "why don't you spend some time with Dragon? She looks … lonely out there."

"She's supposed t'look intimidatin'" Shrek noted.

Fiona shrugged. "She looks … both," she said, then turned back at her equine friend. "Donkey?"

"Oh, uh, sure!" Donkey said, and joined Fiona on the balcony. He propped himself up with his front hooves on the railing and called across to Dragon. "HEY, BABE, WANT SOME COMPANY FOR A WHILE?"

Dragon's ears angled up, and she smiled. A moment later she had taken off, and a couple of seconds after that was hovering over the balcony. She held out her paw out to Donkey, and batted her foot-long lashes at him.


	8. Chapter 6: Fateful Decisions

Chapter 6: Fateful Decisions

A short while before the witch's arrival, Gledius and Maximus sat at a small table outside of one of Duloc's theme restaurants, each nursing a mug of ale. In front of them sat plastic plates containing the barely picked-over remains of their small, overpriced spaghetti-and-meatball dinners. Their seats were a hundred yards or so closer to the church than the "Lost Parents" station, and afforded a better view of the holy edifice, and the ungodly beast that stood guard atop it.

The two officers had batted ideas back and forth on the best way to try to neutralize the dragon, and had failed to come up with any workable solutions.

As Maxiumus took another sip at his brew, looking up at their reptilian nemesis, Gledius studied his understudy. Maximus's suggestions had been bold, direct, heroic, and stupid. Challenging the beast to open combat with a regiment of lancers, for example, seemed like something they might write epic poems about, but in truth, the beast could easily incinerate the lot of the charging cavaliers before they got within a hundred feet. The naïve young lieutenant seemed caught up in his own fairy tale notions of the proper conduct of men in their position – either that or he was a better actor than Gledius ever was. The captain had spent years as Farquaad's lackey, the ever-obedient right-hand-man to Farquaad in all the little Lord's plans and schemes. Gledius had worked hard to keep his ambitious nature in check – showing enough to impress his former superiors and then eventually Farquaad into steadily promoting him into positions of increasing responsibility, but not so much as to alert Farquaad that his ultimate goal was so supercede the diminutive regent himself. Of course, the captain reflected with some irritation, a few HAD been able to see through him more easily than the myopic Farquaad – that inscrutable Beagley, for instance, had seemed to suspect something. But to Gledius's knowledge the city manager had not alerted Duloc's ruler to the possible danger from below – for some self-serving reason of his own, Gledius had no doubt. Gledius wasn't sure when, or even if, he might have moved against Farquaad directly. He was still performing duties to win over his trust, such as chasing down the exasperatingly elusive Gingerbread Man and seeking out the mythical Magic Mirror. But suddenly that decision became academic, as in a flash the dragon had eliminated that stumbling block for him. In that sense, the dragon had given him a great boost up the career latter. For that he felt an ironic sense of gratitude to the monster that now guarded his last hurtle to the top of the Dulocian power structure. As Maximus continued to stare up at the beast, Gledius allowed an ironic smile to cross his lips, and clandestinely tipped his mug to the dragon in mock salute. Now if he could just figure out its weak spot, and get one more break…

Gledius's ruminations were brought to an abrupt halt by the dragon's sudden change in attitude, as it struck an attentive pose, ears alert and teeth bared, and stared toward the western sky. A moment later, Gledius thought he could detect the reason why, as he could both hear and see a small figure streaking in across the sky from that directly. "WHAT THE BLAZES –" he exclaimed, leaping to his feet and inadvertently knocking over his ale. The shatter-resistant plastic mug clattered, unnoticed, on the cobblestones below as the captain stared, transfixed, at the scene unfolding above him.

Gledius's utterance soon became literal as the figure – Gledius now recognized it as a witch – circled the town, as if getting its bearings, then dove toward Farquaad's castle. At that point the dragon, which had been tracking the witch's progress carefully, launched a great plume of flame at it. But it was like trying to shoot a fly with an arrow; the witch easily evaded the flame's path and seemed headed straight at the invitingly open window doors of the ornate balcony outside of Farquaad's council chamber that Gledius had seen the ogress appear on a few minutes before. The dragon also saw the witch's intended flight path, and with a great roar quickly took to the air itself, attempting an interception course. But the witch was a split second faster, and flew into the open balcony doors just ahead of the beast's snapping jaws. The dragon roared again then clung onto the balcony with its front paws while its rear claws dug into the stone wall below it. It continued clinging there, its chest heaving, its lips curled back in a snarl, as it seemed to be intensely watching whatever was going on inside. In the streets below, there were several gasps and a few shrieks from citizens as they witnessed the duel of inhuman antagonists. Near the front gates, one distracted and somewhat inebriated observer accidentally stumbled against the lever that immediately activated the "Welcome to Duloc" automatonic puppet show, its saccharine song providing an incongruous backdrop to the happenings outside Farquaad's castle.

"Sir, what's going on?!" Maximus stammered, his eyes still transfixed on the dragon.

"An excellent question," Gledius said. He was hardly sure himself. But he decided now was not the time to sound unsure to this would-be recruit to his budding plans. "Offhand," he said, "I would guess that our little group of conspirators are consulting with a confederate."

"But … but if the witch is their ally, why would the dragon have tried to kill her?" Maximus asked, confused.

Gledius frowned. The lieutenant wasn't that dense after all. He'd have to be more careful of his presumptions. Frankly, he wasn't sure how much of what he had seen that evening was planned by the queen and how much just happened. He wondered, had that irritating city manager not interfered, if the whole group of them wouldn't have simply flown off, never to be seen again, and left Gledius the beneficiary of an unplanned coup of his own. Or perhaps Beaglely was part of it after all – in fact, the little man was probably smart enough to have planned the whole thing, although Gledius wouldn't have thought he had the nerve to actually have taken such an active part. Perhaps it was the years Gledius had spend so closely with Farquaad, but he found that when he expected the worst of somebody, he usually wasn't disappointed. But in any event, he wasn't going to let the opportunity presented this evening slip by – and besides, he owed the ogress back for her humiliation of him, and Gledius was the type who tried to pay such debts back – with interest. So if it meant presenting his worst case scenario as fact to his underlings, and exploiting the Dulocian's innate fear and distrust of fairy tale freaks, then those would be the tools he would use. In fact, as his mind ran along these lines, an answer for Maximus's question sprang to mind.

"Perhaps their watchdog is a bit too anxious?" Gledius ventured. "After all, it's just a big stupid beast." Maximus seemed to think about it for a moment, then nodded his assent. Gledius fought down a grin.

Just then the dragon loosed its hold to the castle and started flapping its way back toward the church. A moment later, the witch flew back out of the balcony windows, made a couple of tight circles in the sky, and then, to Gledius's horror, turned and dove straight toward he and Maximus.

"DUCK!!" Gledius screamed, and dove down below the table, followed a moment later by Maximus.

The witch overflew the table with a great "WHOOSH," clearing it by only a few feet and leaving a noticeable breeze in her wake. Several seconds later, Gledius was still cowering under the table when Maximus said, "Sir? Sir, I think she's gone now."

"Oh, of course," the captain said as he rose and tried to regain his composure. "I – uh – was just taking a few moments to consider what she may have been scheming with her companions in the –"

"I THOUGHT I recognized you!" a cackling voice said from just behind and above Gledius. The captain screamed and dove back under the table again as Maximus drew his sword and held it at the ready as he faced the witch, who was now hovering on her broom about four feet off the ground and a couple of yards away from the table.

"You said she was gone!" Gledius growled.

"Oh, I came back!" the witch said, "Since you're the one that offloaded those cartloads of freeloaders onto my land, I wanted to show you something."

Gledius peeked over the table to see the witch pulling a scroll out of her pocket. He stood as she opened it and held it out to the captain. "See?" she asked, with a self-satisfied grin.

Gledius read the queen's edict, and his jaw dropped.

"My God, sir!" Maximus gasped, having also read it, "You were right!"

"Yes, of COURSE I was," Gledius said, trying to keep any surprise out of his voice. A moment later, when he realized the depth of the break he had just caught, he had to restrain the glee that swept over him. The ogress had played right into his hands! It was perfect!

"Well, I'm off," the witch said, re-rolling the scroll and stuffing it into a pocket. "I just wanted to show you that to make sure there was no misunderstanding. No more dumping! I now have the right to refuse your refuse!" Then, after a moment, she cracked an evil little grin and added, "Of course, if YOU'D like to drop by sometime, just yourself, then that'd be okay. You're the type of man I'd like to have for dinner."

Gledius felt the blood run from his face. Seeing it, the witch gave a croaking laugh, then reared back and called out, "HI O-CEDAR, AWAY!" Then she darted back into the sky and disappeared off to the west.

As Gledius stared off after the witch, he heard Maximus speak from behind him. "Great Heavens, sir! It's all happening just as you said it would!"

Gledius again fought down a grin, then turned to face his astounded and completely beguiled subordinate. "What did you expect?" he asked and, as he thought, the lieutenant could only shake his head and shrug, blushing in embarrassment for whatever latent doubts he might have held.

"Now," Gledius said, "we've still got to figure a way to –"

His words were cut short as he stared up to where the dragon has resumed its perch. But sitting beside it now was the donkey. Even from this distance Gledius was sure he could see the smaller animal's mouth moving as it talked – and talked. Yet it was the way that the dragon was staring down at it that riveted the captain's attention. Was he really seeing what he thought he was in its huge eyes, the contours of its face? The dragon was … enamored with a DONKEY?

Maximus followed Gledius's stare, and the two soldiers stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the two creatures atop the church.

Then Gledius got an idea. An awful idea. Gledius got a wonderful, awful idea.

"Lieutenant," Gledius said, almost wistfully, "are you pondering what I'm pondering?"

"I think so, sir," Maximus replied, turning back towards his captain, "but even if we were able to distribute flying broomsticks to all our lancers, would it really be morally correct to employ tools of the dark arts in such a way, even toward a noble end?"

Gledius stared at Maximus dumbly for a moment, then shook his head to clear it. "No, Lieutenant," Gledius said with a touch of impatience, "that's NOT what I was thinking. But if what I AM thinking works, then we will soon be able to move toward righting the terrible wrong that has been done to Duloc this day. First, we need to gather up our troops, and then –" his eyes drifted to his unfinished plate of spaghetti-and-meatballs sitting on the table – "we need to speak to the owner of this establishment."

* * *

"Anyway," Donkey continued his latest story as Dragon stared attentively down at him, "Farquaad stared down at us, pointed at Shrek 'n said, 'The first guy ta off the ogre gets t'be champ,' or somethin' like that. So all the knights, they started movin' in on Shrek an' waving their swords and battleaxes an' stuff. An' Shrek, well, he tried ta talk 'is way out've it. Meanwhile, I just kinda eased outta the way an' got on top'a these big barrels of beer, and when they finally started fightin', I rolled this big barrel over top'a -- oh, I dunno, maybe thirty or forty of 'em! Yep, I'm pretty sure I saved the big lug's life! Not that he'd ever admit it, a'course."

Dragon, whose eyes had been growing wide as she listened with bated breath to Donkey's tale unfold, now half bowed her head in salute, then puckered her lips and made a whistling sound, obviously impressed by Donkey's intrepid show of bravery.

"Hey, thanks Babe," Donkey said, "Y'know, you're a really good listener. And I really 'preciate that. Most people I know, when I try ta tell a story, well, they just kinda tune me out or hurry me along. It really gets frazzlin, havin' that happen all the time, y'know?"

Dragon frowned and shook her head in disapproval, not understanding how anyone could treat this fascinating creature in such a rude way.

"Well, anyway," Donkey said, getting back to his story, "me an' Shrek beat all the knights. Yep, we knocked them all out cold! Then Farquaad, he--"

"Es-cuse-a-me, es-cuse-a-me please! Signore and -- Signorina?" a nervous, Italian-accented voice called from below them. Donkey and Dragon looked down and saw a stout middle-aged man with dark thinning hair and a thick mustache, wearing a chef's apron and an odd floppy cap, standing at the base of the church and looking up at them. Most of the crowd had dissipated as the night wore on, and the fellow stood out rather starkly in the mostly deserted square.

"Hey, man, what'cho want?" Donkey called down, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He heard a deep grown in Dragon's voice beside him as she also looked down warily at the little man.

"Es-cuse-a-me, please!" he repeated, sounding even more nervous now, "My name is Mario. I own a restaurante not-a-far from-a here. In honor of-a the great deed you have done in-a ridding our town of-a-the fascista Far-a-qaad, we would like-a to treat-a-you and-a your lady-friend to a free dinner!"

"A free dinner?" Donkey repeated, his ears pricking up. "Really?" At the sound of food he felt his stomach growl and his mouth begin to water. It WAS starting to get late, and he and Dragon HADN'T had dinner. Well, HE hadn't -- SHE, of course, had had that little snack in the church...

"Oh, si!" Mario said, "Here, let-a-me have-a-them bring it to you!" With that, he looked off toward a nearby alley and curtly called out, "Hey, Luigi, a-bring it on out-a! " A moment later, another moustached man of Mediterranean complexion, this one younger, thinner and taller than Mario but also wearing an apron and floppy cap, led a horse pulling a large platform into the yard. The platform -- a rectangular litter about four by eight feet -- was piled high with spaghetti, tomato sauce, and several meatballs each about two feet in diameter.

"Please come down and-a help-a yourselfs!" Mario called up as Luigi unhitched the platform from the horse.

Donkey looked down at the mound of pasta and licked his lips. "Whaddya think, Babe?" he asked, and looked up at Dragon. She shifted her eyes from him down to the proprietor, who had suddenly started perspiring. And his smile looked a little bit too forced. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and slowly shook her head.

"Oh, c'mon!" Donkey prodded, "They just wanna show us a little gratitude! Heck, it'd be downright insultin' not ta take 'em up on it!"

Dragon wasn't particularly impressed with his arguments regarding decorum. But he looked so very anxious to try the meal – she looked at Donkey, then the proprietor, then Donkey again –

"What'cha say?!" Donkey nearly pleaded, and flashed her one of his toothy grins. "Bet you'd like them big ol' meatballs! Man, they could probably have a slam-dunk contest with them suckers!"

Dragon snickered, then sighed, then reluctantly reached down and picked her companion up with a front paw. Then she spread her wings and they glided down, landing beside Mario and his pile of spaghetti. Luigi and the horse were now gone.

"Please, eat up-a!" he invited, with sweeping gestures toward the pile. "I – uh don't suppose-a you'd like a knife-and-a-fork?"

"No, man, that's okay," Donkey said as he approached the mound with wide eyes and smacking lips, "and thanks a bunch!"

"No problemo!" Mario said, sweating a bit more profusely as he got a close-up view of Dragon. As Donkey began to attack the pasta she looked around the square, eyes attentive, nose testing the air for anything that might possibly be construed as a threat. She noted that the few citizens still in the square immediately gave her a wide berth, and the only soldiers within site were the two standing guard in front of Farquaad's castle doors, who, after a moment's alarm and confusion, tried to reassume their previous positions. Then her eyes rested on the proprietor. He had to struggle to keep his smile pasted on, and he had to wipe his sweating hands on his apron. Her lip curled involuntarily as she stared down at him.

"Not bad, not bad!" Donkey said enthusiastically, trying to talk despite a mouth half-full of spaghetti. "C'mon, Babe, see what'cha think."

Dragon leaned down and sniffed the pasta suspiciously. She then licked it to make sure it didn't taste funny. She then started nibbling at a few strands as Donkey continued to eat with hearty abandon.

"How-a sweet!" Mario said, "Perhaps you would-a like a little music with-a your meal?"

He then reached around and pulled out an accordion. He began playing it, accompanying his own singing, his eyes closing as he got "into" the song:

"_Oh this is-a the night, _

_It's a beauuuu-ti-a-ful night_

_And we call it —_ "

Mario stopped singing as he heard a deep growl emanate from Dragon's throat. He opened his eyes to see her glaring at him, the side of one lip curled back to expose a few of her long sharp teeth.

"Ah, yes," he stammered nervously, "a-maybe you'd prefer-a to dine in quiet? Yes, of course-a, you do! Well, just-a call if you-a need anything. Ciao, now!" Mario then gave a hasty bow and quickly retreated back to his restaurant.

Donkey shook his head and swallowed a mouthful of pasta. "Everybody I know's a music critic," he mumbled. Dragon looked over at him, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. "Uh, never mind," Donkey said, "let's just do like the guy said and chow down!"

Dragon shrugged and began nibbling at the mound again. She found that she had bitten into one particularly long strand of spaghetti she couldn't quite bite off, so she began sucking it in. Coincidentally, Donkey was having the same trouble with a strand himself, and began doing the same thing. A moment later, both animals not realizing they were working on opposite ends of the same strand, they were found themselves pressing muzzle to muzzle. Embarrassed, Donkey jerked his head down and away, blushing somewhat as he smiled shyly and glanced back up at Dragon. She smiled back down at him and his reaction, and batted her eyes. Dropping her guard for the first time in a while, she leaned down and pushed one of the huge meatballs toward his end of the platform with her muzzle.

"Oh, ah, no thanks, Babe," he said, recovering his composure somewhat, "I'm kindof a vegetarian. Mostly, anyway. 'Course, I DO have an occasional egg. Say, do eggs count as meat? I know if ya let 'em grow up ta be chickens, well, that's meat, a' course. Funny how we think ah things like that, huh? I know some people who don't even count fish as meat. 'Meat and fish' they say, like they's two diff'rent things. Me, I kinda think of 'em together. On the other hand, you COULD say…"

Donkey continued rambling on about meat and fish and eggs and other progressively less related topics. Dragon quietly listened to him and his meandering thoughts, amused and at the same time soothed. And as she listened she leaned forward and, without thinking about it, gobbled down the meatball that Donkey had declined. And then she ate another meatball. And another. Soon she had finished them all. So captivated was she by him and his pleasant droning that she didn't realize that his voice wasn't the only thing making her progressively relaxed… and sleepy…

* * *

Universal, equal voting rights for all Dulocian citizens regardless of class, station, or gender to directly elect their legislature. Subordination of the military to serve that body's directions, but not dictate what those directions were. An independent court with power to check excesses of the legislature that might impede the rights of Dulocians -- rights not only to vote, but rights of speech, press, assembly -- even religion. It was a broad, radical document, yet surprisingly concise. Fiona was impressed. She flipped back through the last couple of pages again, then looked up at Beaglely. His face appeared mostly neutral, but if one took the time to look closely, they could see the anxiousness in his eyes as he awaited her decision.

"You've taken a lot of time to plan this, haven't you?" she asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied. "It was always a dream of mine -- a fantasy, if you will, that such a system might be enacted here. And so I tried to make it -- if you'll pardon the expression -- as perfect as possible."

"And ye failed," Shrek's caustic voice pronounced from the back of the room.

They turned to see Shrek, sitting in a chair that leaned against the wall near the doorway, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"Would you care to elaborate, Mr. ... Shrek?" Beaglely asked impassively.

"Yes, Shrek," Fiona joined, her voice betraying a touch of irritation, "DO be just a TAD specific, if you'd please."

Shrek looked away from Beaglely and into Fiona's eyes and, despite the hint of rebuke there, his scowl faded into earnest sincerity. "Look, Fiona," he began, "I've been watchin' ye as Beaglely's been goin' over this thing with ye. And I kin tell, from the questions you've been askin' and tweekin' you've made, that you're a smart an' perceptive woman. Duloc would -- well, they'd be really lucky if you DID stay here an' be their queen. They'd get a lot better'n they deserve." Shrek's voice caught and he swallowed hard at the thought of Fiona remaining the Dulocian monarch, but then he continued. "But what's ta keep this legislature of yours from bein' filled by a bunch a' demagogues that just tell the people what they want ta hear, just get their blood riled up an' forget their brains. You're talkin' about a bunch of pretty ignorant people here. They don't know much beyond takin' care o' their farms or runnin' their own businesses. I suppose there MIGHT be some exceptions, like Beaglely here, but mostly they're a shortsighted, bigoted, and superstitious lot. An' now you're proposin' that these people be put in charge of electin' their own leaders? Won't that lead to the – the 'mobocracy' ye talked about earlier?"

Fiona just stared at Shrek, her mouth ajar, all traces of admonition faded from her face. This man continued to impress her, and inwardly she rebuked herself at assuming his reaction was inspired by kneejerk ignorance (tinged with a bit of self-interest). He had brought up a valid, practical point that eluded her, as again her lack of worldly experience had kept her from maintaining a proper level of experienced skepticism as Beaglely explained his document. Now she realized that Shrek had been quietly and unobtrusively supplying that experienced skepticism from the back of the room, allowing her the freedom to absorb the intent and detail of Beaglely's plans, and had voiced his concerns now that the time had come to judge whether those idealistic intents held up to practical scrutiny. Despite Shrek's words to the contrary, Fiona didn't feel very smart or perceptive at that moment. In fact, she felt a little bit ashamed. But she hoped she would soon have the opportunity to make it up to him, mostly in ways that did not directly involve the intellect.

"You raise some valid points," Beaglely conceded from beside her. "Indeed, an informed and educated citizenry would seem to be a prerequisite if we were to hope for success. That is why I've come up with this …"

Beaglely reached into the briefcase's hidden compartment again and pulled out one more paper, this one thick as it had apparently been folded over several times. He unfolded it, and laid the resulting sheet – which measured some two by three feet – onto the table. Fiona looked down at it. Milquest leaned forward from the seat where he had silently been observing the proceedings and looked at it. Curious, even Shrek came forward and looked over Fiona's shoulder at it.

"Is that supposed t'be this castle?" Shrek asked.

"Yes," Beaglely said, "with a few alterations."

"A FEW?" Fiona echoed, looking down at the penciled out general floorplans. The outline of the huge castle was recognizable, and the interior floors had their major rooms highlighted, but instead of various private chambers, Beaglely had drawn in the plans for – "Classrooms! Fiona said, looking over the scribbled notations by his drawings, "you've divided most of this castle into classrooms!"

"Yes," Beaglely confirmed, "it is large enough that with some remodeling we should be able to divide it into suites for each of the several grades, with offices for faculty. I figured, if we no longer have a regent or a monarch, then we no longer need a palace, and we could perhaps turn this monument of vanity into a lighthouse of knowledge. By my calculations, we could host all the children and teens within Duloc. We could make sure that they get the proper instruction in the basic skills of reading, writing and mathematics, as well as help them develop the proper appreciation for their history and their role as responsible citizens."

Fiona examined the floorplans for a few moments more, then turned back to Shrek. "What do you think?" she asked.

Shrek raised an eyebrow, apparently surprised that she would consult him on this. "Well," he said, "it does bring a new meanin' to 'higher learnin'." He chuckled to himself – but only to himself. Fiona just rolled her eyes and then stared back at him as his chuckle quickly petered out and he cleared his throat, suddenly a bit embarrassed.

"Seriously," she insisted, "what do you think?"

Shrek shrugged, uncomfortable at being brought into the discussion. "Oh, I don't know, Fiona," he said uneasily, "I ain't exactly had a lot of experience with humans' … NOBLER motivations. I suppose, if they had to do SOMETHIN' with this place after ye step down, they could do a lot worse'n teaching a few kids some things they wouldn't learn otherwise. The place would have a lot better legacy than Farquaad left it with, that's for sure"

Fiona nodded and turned back to the floorplan. "Yes," she said softly, almost to herself. "A legacy to leave … after I step down …" She stared down at the plan for the conversion of the castle – HER castle. It was, by all rights, hers now. That's the way the world worked. Royalty begat royalty, kingdoms passed from hand to hand by cultivated bloodlines and civilized laws – well, civilized until the monarchs of opposing kingdoms started sending armies against each other in mass mutual slaughter. But when all was said and done, the monarchs still ruled, and their responsibility was to look after their subjects – subjects who were, it was taken for granted, simply unable to take care of themselves. It was just one of the "givens" of the universe, as sure as the sun spun around the earth. If she gave that up – if she bought in to all Beaglely had been saying – would she be shirking that responsibility? In her desire to shrug off the yoke of unpartnered queenship that had fallen so unexpectedly across her neck, was she leaving Duloc out to dry? Were they even close to mature enough to handle the responsibility that Beaglely was asking her to pass on to them? Unthinkingly, she reached down and ran her hand gently over the floorplan – the hand, she suddenly remembered, not of a demur, elegant human female, but the thick, rough hand of an ogress. Yet these people, these Dulocians – most of them, anyway – had accepted her, even as their queen, when she had been raised with the expectation that no human could stand even to look at her in this hideous form. Perhaps these people were capable of more than she was giving them credit for. She looked up and saw Beaglely staring back at her, patiently waiting her next move. Here was one example of someone who had been born a lowly commoner – who had pulled himself up from the dirt of his hovel floor into a position to advise queens. She wondered how many others out there with other potential gifts might do as well in their own right, especially if given a chance to improve their education. If SHE gave them that chance.

Fiona sighed. Oh well, she thought ruefully, it was a nice reign while it lasted.

"Mr. Beaglely?" the queen said.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" he inquired obediently.

"Prepare two legal documents," she ordered, "one to authorize the conversion of this castle into an institute of learning such as you have outlined here. The other should announce the adoption of the new Dulocian Constitution, which will coincide with my abdication of the crown, effective at noon tomorrow."

"As you wish, My Queen," Beaglely said. His features remained passive, but Fiona was sure she caught a glimmer of something – joy? – in his eyes.

As the city manager set about his tasks, Fiona turned to Shrek and smiled. "It looks like I'll be free tomorrow night, if that offer to see your swamp's still open."

He smiled back at her, but with a hint of unease that surprised her. "Are ye sure about all you're doin' here, Fiona?" he asked.

"No," she replied frankly, still smiling, "but then, I haven't been sure of ANYTHING since a certain ogre drug me out of my room in Dragon's castle."

Shrek chuckled. "Funny," he said, "neither have I."

Just then a loud growling erupted from the ogre's stomach. Both he and Fiona looked down at it, then back at each other. She pursed her lips and tried – unsuccessfully – to look more annoyed than amused.

"Haven't had much to eat t'day," he said shyly by way of an explanation.

Suddenly, another growling, of equal intensity, arose from Fiona's own belly. They both looked down at hers, then back at each other again. "I – uh – haven't had much of an appetite today, either," she said, blushing slightly.

"Lord Mayor," Beaglely said from his seat as he continued to work, "perhaps you could help the queen and her companion order something that may slate their hunger?"

Milquest blinked, surprised. "Huh?" he stammered, then "Oh, of course!"

The mayor bounced off his seat and offered the ogres an uneasy smile. "Please, come this way," he said, and gestured toward a cabinet set at about human eye level against one wall. Fiona, an eyebrow raised in curiosity, followed him to it, Shrek warily tagging along just behind her. When he reached it, Milquest opened the cabinet doors to reveal a three-foot square opening in the wall, and through the opening could be seen a chute -- again, some three feet deep and wide -- that led into darkness both downward and upward. A pair of ropes rose from the darkness below and disappeared into it again above. On the wall beside the opening were imbedded two objects; a crank and a speaker.

"What on earth is THAT?" Shrek asked.

"A dumb waiter," Milquest replied.

"A WHAT?" Shrek said, obviously unenlightened by the device's name alone.

"It's ... ah ..." the mayor stammered, "well, you've noticed how high up we are in the castle?"

"Aye," Shrek agreed, waiting.

"Well, this chute leads down to the kitchen. It's used to send meals up to rooms at the various stories. There's a cubicle that they load meals, snacks, drinks, etc., onto and send up the chute."

Shrek nodded. "Clever," he said, "so how do ye tell 'em what ye want?"

"Simple!" the mayor said, then turned and leaned toward the speaker.

"Hello!" he called into it.

A few moments later a crackling, static-filled voice replied, "Greetings, and welcome to Castle Farquaad's Kitchen. Would you care to try the Farquaad Fun Feast special, featuring char-grilled--"

"No, thank you," Milquest replied. "Uh, just a moment please." He turned to the ogres. "What would you two like to eat?"

Shrek harrumphed. "I doubt that there's much in your fancy menu that'd be to MY taste," he said.

Fiona thought for a few seconds, and then a gleam came to her eye. "You think not?" she said to Shrek, then turned to Milquest. "Lord Mayor, you DO serve escargot and caviar here, do you not?"

"Certainly, Your Majesty," he replied, "only the finest quality!"

She turned back to Shrek. "Why don't you try some of that, dear?"

Shrek looked at her, puzzled. "Why on earth do ye think I'd like that stuff?"

"Lord Mayor," Fiona said, "tell Shrek what escargot and caviar are."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Milquest said, "they are the most succulent delicacies to be had in--"

"No," Fiona corrected, "tell him what they REALLY are."

"Oh," Milquest said, then nearly mumbled, "they're -- um -- snails and fish eggs."

Shrek raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Snails 'n fish eggs?" he repeated.

"RAW fish eggs," Fiona added, a smile creeping into the corner of her mouth as she saw Shrek's expected reaction.

"Really?" he asked.

"Really, really," she confirmed.

"Well, I s'pose I COULD try some," he said, unconsciously smacking his lips.

Fiona giggled and turned back to the mayor. "Two orders of escargot and caviar," she said. Then suddenly her and Shrek's stomachs both sounded off again with simultaneous, mighty growls. The ogres exchanged amused glances, then Fiona shrugged and said to Milquest, "Make that two LARGE orders, if you'd please."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Milquest said, then spoke into the speaker. "Two large orders of escargot and caviar. Oh, and a large T-Bone steak, well-done, with four eggs and plenty of butter!" He looked back at the ogres and smiled sheepishly. "I'm on a high protein diet," he explained.

The speaker crackled. "Two large escargot and caviar, and a large well-done steak and eggs," the person on the other end said. "Anything else?"

Milquest looked over to Beaglely, who was still sitting at the table, engrossed in his writing. "Anything for you, Clarence?" the mayor called.

"No thank you," Beaglely answered tonelessly, not looking up from his careful writing, "I'm too excited to eat."

"Very well," the mayor said, then turned toward the speaker and said, "that's all."

"Would you like some fries with that?" the speaker crackled back.


	9. Chapter 7: Queen, Interrupted

Chapter 7: Queen, Interrupted

Gledius peered around the corner of a nearby building at the two animals eating at the cart of pasta. He smiled with grim satisfaction as he saw the dragon finish off the last doped meatball. He had been afraid, when he saw the attention with which the pink behemoth had at first been examining the food, that it would somehow detect the strong but supposedly tasteless sedative that he had had the cook lace through the spicy beef. But its attention had, fortunately, been drawn away yet again by the yammering jackass.

"We're in luck," the captain whispered over his shoulder to Maximus, who stood just behind him, "the beast has eaten the last meatball, and doesn't seem to realize anything is amiss. It shouldn't be long now."

"Luck, sir?" the lieutenant responded, "Nay, I should think that Divine Providence has surely played a part in blessing our noble endeavor."

Gledius caught himself just short of saying, "Whatever," and just nodded instead. If the lieutenant wished to believe such quaint notions, it was fine with him – especially if it played into Gledius's plans. For all the captain knew, it might even be true. As for himself, Gledius's experience tended to lead him to the philosophy that God helped those that helped themselves – or at least often appeared to keep quietly out of the way while they did so.

Gledius saw the dragon's eyes begin to flutter closed for a moment, then it jerked them back open. The same thing happened a few seconds later, the action reminding Gledius of the way the dragon tended to bat its eyes every so often at the donkey, a gesture that made the captain want to vomit. But the dragon's eyes would be closed for good soon enough, first in sleep, and then –

"Sir," Maxiumus whispered into Gledius's ear, startling the captain, "why did you just use a sedative? Why not – well, why did you not just use poison, kill it now, and be done with it?"

Gledius turned and looked back at his second-in-command. The viciousness of the question, coming from the source that it did, surprised the captain. And the glint he saw in Maximus's eye was equally surprising. Something about the dragon – or Maxiumus's experience with it – had brought forth a facet in the chivalrous soldier that Gledius hadn't realized existed. There was apparently more depth than Gledius had imagined in Maximus – a dark side to this knight. It was something that the captain would have to file away for future use. For now, there was more immediate work to be done. First, though, he needed to answer the lieutenant's question.

"The beast's crimes were committed against Duloc, its king, its soldiers, and its people," Gledius whispered, "Those people deserve to see the monster executed before them. This is justice. We must put aside what would have been the more convenient act of killing the beast now, to ensure that the people may see such justice done. That is our duty."

Maximus's eyes narrowed for a moment as he digested Gledius's words, then the lieutenant reluctantly nodded. Gledius returned the nod curtly, then turned back to spy again on the two animals. The captain had not mentioned that, since Gledius planned to be the dragon's executioner, that seeing the captain publicly slay such a huge and powerful beast – chained and muzzled or not – would also advance Gledius's prestige in the eyes of Dulocians, who always seemed to enjoy such violent spectacles. He remembered how they had cheered even the ogre himself when the creature had bested an array of their own knights during the tournament to determine the champion who would rescue their future queen from this same dragon – and the ogre had done it with the help of this same donkey. Gledius chuckled quietly and sardonically at the odd and ironic twists of the situation. And he watched the two animals, patiently, like a vulture. If this worked, then the money that he had used to bribe the restaurateur would have been worth it. In fact, Gledius had gotten off relatively cheap. He would have offered more, but the Italian had taken an early offer. The fool. Thinking back on it, Gledius was surprised at how quickly Mario had leaped at the prospect of grabbing just a few gold coins.

As the minutes passed, the dragon grew noticeably and progressively more tired. It stopped checking its surroundings as alertly as it had been, and then seemed to stop checking altogether. Instead of resting on its feet, it seemed to sag, as more of its body started resting on the street. And it had more and more trouble keeping its eyes open. A couple of times, it even started to rest its head on the ground, then quickly raised it as it tried to recover, only to have it start to slump back towards the ground a short while later. Meanwhile, the donkey, to Gledius's gratitude, seemed oblivious to its companion's condition. Between talking and eating – two activities for which it seemed to have quite a knack – it was totally absorbed in its own reality. With luck, they might pull this off without alerting the ogres and their cohorts within the castle to their guardians' plight.

At long last the dragon's head slowly sank to the ground, its eyes closed, and they did not reopen. And the donkey STILL was lost in its own thoughts, muttering something between bites as its snout rooting for more pasta. Maybe Maxiumus was right, Gledius thought; maybe Providence really WAS on their side. The captain glanced up at the light coming from Farquaad's council chamber. He would like to have waited a bit longer to make sure the Dragon was as soundly asleep as possible, but if he did so he might lose the element of surprise. He turned back and looked down the long alley, where two squads of soldiers, each thirty-some-odd men in strength, quietly waited. They had easily been swayed to Gledius's arguments for the coup's necessity, being even less critical thinkers than Maxiumus. But then, that WAS one of the reasons why they were chosen for their positions, along with their willingness to mindlessly obey orders. And now was the time for Gledius to give some of the most important orders of his life. "All right," he whispered to Maxiumus, "let's do it. You take one squad and secure the Dragon – and for God's sake, try to keep that mule quiet if you can – although it might be easier to restrain an UNDOPED dragon. I'll take the other squad and work my way up the castle to the ogres' lair. Now GO!"

* * *

Dragon was feeling quite relaxed, thank you, as she lay with her head on the pavement of the street. Donkey's steady steam of noise was quite soothing, but she heard it less and less as sleep began to overtake her. Then she heard something else as she drifted near the edge of consciousness – something she had heard so many times before – the gentle rattling of armor, as of a knight moving cautiously as it tried to stalk her. Summoning forth a great effort, she opened her eyes. Donkey was still nibbling obliviously at the spaghetti. But several yards away from them, and moving slowly closer, were a group of armored soldiers, swords drawn. Dragon smirked – leave it to humans to bring swords to a firefight. Dragon drew in a deep breath as the soldiers froze in fright, then she let out … a long, smoky yawn as her head collapsed on the pavement and she began to snore. A few moments later her light sleep was interrupted by Donkey's panicked voice. "WAKE UP, BABE!! WAKE UP, PLEASE, THEY'RE EVERYWHERE!!" Dragon forced one eye open to see a close-up of Donkey's frightened face staring into it. "WAKE U—" Suddenly he was no longer there, as one soldier shoved him aside while another took his place in front of Dragon's eye. The soldier looked into her huge slitted pupil, and panic suddenly seemed to seize him, too. He drew his sword back as if in preparation to thrust it forward into her eye – and suddenly the soldier was no longer there, either. Donkey was back, having somehow eluded the first soldier when he saw what the second intended, and had head-butted the second to the ground, snarling after him, "HEY, YOU, PICK ON SOMEBODY YOUR OWN SIZE!" How sweet, Dragon thought blearily, he's fighting for me! Unfortunately, Donkey's temporary show of bravery was cut short as two other soldiers tackled him from behind. Then Dragon's eye closed and she at last slipped completely into unconsciousness.

* * *

Maximus watched approvingly as his men moved about the dragon. They lugged, tossed, and clamped heavy chains about it as the great behemoth snored. While Maximus's squad set about their Lilliputian task, Gledius had led his to the castle gates. The two castle gate guards had at first met the captain with crossed lances, but after a few moments of conversation they, like the others, apparently came to their senses and opened the gates for him. That had been a few minutes ago. The lieutenant glanced up at the towering structure, wondering where within its walls the soldiers were now.

"Stop struggling there!" he heard a rough voice near him, and looked over to where three soldiers were holding the donkey. Two restrained its struggling body while the third's only job was to hold the equine's mouth closed – something that was turning out to be a somewhat daunting task. Maximus mentally kicked himself for not thinking to bring a proper muzzle with them, but they had incorrectly assumed it would have eaten some of the doped meat. Providence was still with them, however, as their surprise was complete enough that the donkey hadn't thought to call out a warning to his cohorts inside the castle, its immediate reaction being more toward what was happening to the dragon. Were the reptile not a murdering beast, Maximus might have found it peculiarly touching. But the dragon was an enemy to man and Heaven, and had to be brought down, along with anyone who allied themselves with it. Whatever the attraction was between these two disparate beings – dragon and donkey – Maximus knew it couldn't be love. Not the pure, innocent love that could only exist between people – real, HUMAN people, properly cast in Divine image. Such a thing was simply not possible. Speaking of people, Maximus looked around him at those people – those citizens – that were still in the square. The ones that stayed around had stuck close to the buildings, leaving a sizeable distance between themselves and the goings-on about the dragon. Maximus could see they were simple gawkers, fascinated by the spectacle but wishing to take no part. None seemed to have thought of even calling out to their new "queen" about the danger, let alone take any active part to support her or her allies. Yes, the lieutenant thought, Duloc was already starting to return to blessed normalcy.

But the donkey continued to struggle, its eyes wide in fright and horror as it watched the scene taking place around it, and every so often glanced up at the high lighted window of the council chamber. Maximus sighed, casually drew his sword and approached the animal. He raised the sword and held it at a position where its point was only a couple of inches from the donkey's forehead. "Stop that," Maximus said simply but firmly. The donkey froze and then cowered, its eyes crossed where both orbs tried to focus on the blade's point at the same time.

Then, from one side of the dragon's snout, a soldier called to another on the other side, "Here, let's get this thing muzzled!" and tossed a chain to his companion. As the two soldiers drug the chain over the snout to get it into position, it rubbed roughly over the beast's nostrils. The dragon's reflexes immediately began to take over. First the nostrils twitched. Then the head began to jerk about as the dragon took a couple of short inhales. It was obvious the monster was about to sneeze, and Maximus could tell from the direction that its head was pointing that it was going to sneeze directly at him and the soldiers restraining the donkey.

"Oh, oh," Maximus muttered as, at last, the dragon sneezed – a great, smoke-filled sneeze that sent the lieutenant, soldiers, and donkey toppling over the cobblestones for several yards and filled that part of the square with a dense dark cloud. Then the dragon settled back down and resumed snoring.

Maximus, sword still in hand, struggled to his feet, coughed and waved futilely at the smoke all about him. At first he was relieved that no flame had accompanied that smoke. Then, to his terror and frustration, he heard a booming voice bellow from somewhere in the fog: "SHREK! WATCH OUT! THE SOLDIERS ARE COMIN', THE SOLDIERS ARE COMIN'! SHREEEEK!!"

"SEIZE HIM!" Maximus ordered, waving his sword in the direction where he heard the voice as he began awkwardly moving in that direction himself. He heard some grunts as the soldiers likewise stumbling about.

"Got him!" Maximus heard one soldier call, then the heard a loud clang as hoof met metal, then a pained curse from the soldier. Then Maxmimus heard hoofs clattering on the cobblestones as the donkey began to run – directly toward him. He could just make out the outline of the donkey as it approached, and the lieutenant swung his sword. But the donkey gave a panicked yelp as he saw Maximus and his blade, and changed his direction just as he ran by, knocking the lieutenant down again as his sword swished through air. Maximus could then hear the donkey's receding hoof beats as it fled down one of the alleys away from the castle.

The lieutenant struggled to his feet, and could see the outline of the soldiers around the dragon through the dissipating smokescreen. He rushed toward them and called, "BOWMEN, FOLLOW ME! THE REST OF YOU, FINISH SECURING THAT MONSTER AND THEN STAND GUARD ON IT!" Maximus then ran toward the alley that the donkey had disappeared down, followed by some half dozen soldiers wielding crossbows. If they couldn't recapture the slippery little beast of burden, Maximus at least wanted to be sure it wouldn't get away.

* * *

Beaglely had made out the papers. The language was so crisp and clean and direct that Fiona wondered for a moment if he was really the lawyer he claimed to be. But there it was, laid out in terse and unromantic prose. Effective at noon the next day, "Queen" Fiona would cease to exist. IF she signed it. She leaned forward in her chair and looked it over. She sighed one more time, slowly and unconsciously twirling the newly wetted quill between her thumb and forefinger. Her eyes drifted involuntarily toward the end of the table, where she had sat her regal and ornate crown. And then they drifted a couple of feet to its side, where the sunflower she had been given sat in a simple, unassuming pale green vase. That prompted her to shift her gaze yet again to Shrek, who sat a few feet away in his own chair, his eyes glued on her, his arms folded, his expression an odd mixture of hope and anxiety.

He seemed to read the unspoken question in her own face, and said, "I dunno, Fiona. Maybe it ain't in my best interest to say so—yours neither, really—but I don't think it'll work. Still, if Beaglely here thinks it will—well, he's been 'round humans a lot more'n me."

Fiona nodded and looked back down at the document. "I guess sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith," she said. "I just wish I didn't have to take so many in one blasted day." She inhaled deeply, steeled herself, and then signed the paper with a flourish. She quickly affixed her royal seal, trying not to hesitate lest some residual doubts still clamoring at the back of her mind rear up and stay her hand. That done, she looked over the signed, sealed paper a few seconds more, then held it out toward Beaglely, who had witnessed his queen's last internal struggle with what had appeared on the surface to be quiet indifference.

"There you are, Mr. Beaglely," Fiona said. "A republic. If you can keep it."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said, his words bland but the slight tremor in his hand as he took the paper and looked it over betraying some inner emotions fighting against their accustomed repression.

"So tell me," Shrek said to Beaglely, the ogre's own demeanor not hiding his relief at all, "how long do ye think it'll take for Gledius to try 'n crumple up that lil paper of yours 'n seize power for himself?"

Fiona shot Shrek a reprehending glare but the ogre seemed, for the moment, to be intentionally ignoring her, as if he anticipated her reaction. But Beaglely simply shrugged. The lawyer then replied, "Hopefully it won't be for a while yet. With luck, and with the legal backing this document gives us, we will get the new government established and running before he tries to move. At that point, law and custom – two valued commodities around here – will be on our side. Remember, Gledius is not the bravest or boldest of persons. I don't think he'll do anything rash."

It was then that Fiona heard it. Her trumpet ears involuntarily pricked up at the distant but shrill, terrified cry of Donkey yelling something about soldiers. She looked over at Shrek and saw that his own ears were also standing at attention, his face relaying a mixture of stunned surprise and – fright? Whatever, it was not reassuring. The two humans either had not heard the sound as clearly or recognized the speaker, but by the ogres' reactions they could tell something was terribly amiss. Milquest's face drained of its color and his eyes began widening in terror, but Beaglely simply stared ahead and expanded on his last comment, saying, "Then again, I could be wrong."

Fiona and Shrek simultaneously bounded out of their chairs and ran to the balcony. As they ran, Fiona looked across to the top of the church. She pointed at its roof at Dragon's adopted but now empty perch. Before she could say anything Shrek responded, "Yes, I see!"

The two reached the railing and both instinctively looked down at the courtyard. Below them, some soldiers where securing a sleeping Dragon with chains while others chased Donkey as he disappeared down an alley.

"Oh, for the love o'Pete!" Shrek growled, then pounded the railing so hard that Fiona was surprised either it or his hand didn't crack. "Blast it! I should've been payin' more attention out here an' less to that bloody bleedin' lawyer and his bloody bleedin' papers!" He then looked over at her, his expression of outrage melting into one of pain and regret. "I'm sorry, Fiona," he said, "I failed ye."

Fiona shook her head. "Don't be silly!" she said, "If anybody's to blame, it's me! I should've sacked that wannabe despot when I had the chance." Then, as the horror of what the unfolding scene below implied played itself out in her mind like falling dominoes – or house of cards – she added softly, mostly to herself, "Or better yet, I should have flown away with you when you rescued me."

"Yeah, well, that WOULD'VE been better," Shrek conceded, looking down at the courtyard again and thus missing Fiona's open-mouthed reaction to his ingenuous comment. But his demeanor, as he looked down, changed yet again into one of contemplation. He scratched his chin in thought, the stubble he unconsciously rubbed making loud scratching sounds that sent involuntary shivers up Fiona's spine. Then he added, "but we gotta deal with the hand we're dealt now. First thing, we gotta get outta this place, b'fore—"

At that moment there was a loud pounding at the chamber door, followed immediately by Gledius's voice, "OPEN THIS DOOR IN THE NAME OF THE LATE KING FARQUAAD!"

The two ogres turned and looked at the door. "B'fore THIS," Shrek said with a resigned sigh.

A moment later there was another pounding at the door, this one louder and augmented with the sound of rattling armor. Fiona guessed that two or more soldiers were throwing themselves against the door in an attempt to break it in. She glanced toward the humans. Milquest remained standing, apparently frozen in fright, his eyes staring in horror toward the door. Beaglely stood by the table, quickly but efficiently shoving papers back into his briefcase. These included the ones she had just signed, which he placed into the case's hidden compartment.

She looked back at Shrek. As he stared at the room's lone door his expression hardened, one eye actually twitching slightly as his hands clenched into fists. "Stay behind me," he ordered as he began moving forward toward the door.

Fiona moved forward beside him.

He stopped and looked over at her. "I said to stay behind me," he said with a touch of irritation.

"No," Fiona said firmly, "this is OUR fight."

"I don't want ye t'get hurt," he said, his voice softening somewhat.

"That's sweet," she said, trying to keep her own voice hard as she continued to stare at the door, "but I'm quite capable of handling myself in a fight, as you might have noticed back in the forest with Monsieur Hood's men. Remember that little incident where I saved your life?"

"You didn't save my life," Shrek said.

Fiona turned toward him, gaping. She rested her hands on her hips and demanded, "What do you MEAN, I didn't save your life?!"

"Oh, don't get me wrong!" he said, "I mean, I really appreciate ye stickin' up for me there. An' you were a real hellion, takin' out those robbers! I was really impressed! I mean, I couldn't 've done much better m'self—"

"'MUCH' better?!"

Shrek bit his lip at the slip, then tried to explain as the door pounding continued in the background. "What I MEAN is—well, he was just one guy—"

"One guy with a dagger, set to 'ram it through your heart,' if I recall correctly," Fiona spat, pronouncing the quote with a mock French accent.

"Yeah, but—c'mon, Fiona. Don't ye think, with all the humans I've had t'deal with in m'life, I could'a handled one guy with a knife?"

"One guy? ONE GUY? Oh, did you overlook that little backup band he had trailing him? The ones that I took out by MYSELF while YOU stood by holding your ass?"

Shrek sighed in frustration and ran one hand over his bald head. "Okay. FINE." he said, "As you say, My Love, ye probably saved m'life back there. In fact, I'm sure ye did. And I really appreciate it, Fiona, I really do. Now, can we please just drop it an' get back ta—"

"DON'T PATRONIZE ME!"

Shrek had started to turn toward the door, which was beginning to buckle. But now he reluctantly turned back toward his True Love. "I'm not patronizin'," he objected.

"OH YES YOU ARE! If you don't think I saved your life, then just SAY so!"

"I DID say so! I SAID I didn't think ye saved my life!"

"WHAT?! How could you SAY that?!"

Shrek let out a loud moan of exasperation and pounded his forehead with the heel of his palm. Suddenly the door finally burst open and a group of soldiers spilled into the room. About a dozen of them quickly formed a line near the door, some with swords drawn and some with battleaxes ready, and faced the two ogres. But the favor was not returned. Fiona and Shrek continued to face each other, seemingly oblivious to the intrusion.

"Hey!" Shrek argued, "I SAID at the TIME that what ye did was amazing! YOU'RE the one that just shrugged it off like it was nothin'!"

"I was TRYING to be MODEST. Or, as you so succinctly put it, I was still trying to act like 'some shallow, cookie-cutter caricature of some silly fairy-tale version of a princess.' I ASSUMED we were past such pretenses now. But here you are, still hung up on your 'I'm a big bad ogre and don't need any help from anybody' trip."

"Look, Fiona, just tell me what you want from me."

"Oh, I don't know," she said, crossing her arms, "Maybe a little acknowledgment that I've been some HELP to you, that I've actually CONTRIBUTED something to this little adventure, that I'm more than some prize to be fought over."

"But – but you HAVE! And you ARE! You ARE a prize, a greater jewel than could be found in any crown! You're beautiful, you're smart, and – you wanna talk about brave? My God, woman, we don't even need to MENTION the bandits – an' maybe you're right, maybe you DID save m'life and I'm just still stuck up on my 'ogre trip,' – what you did in the church, steppin' away from Farquaad like that – THAT was the bravest thing I've ever seen in m'life! Braver than anything I'VE ever done! Contributed? You've done MORE than contributed. An' you're MORE'n just a prize. You're … my hero."

Fiona stared at Shrek, her arms dropping to her sides. She opened her mouth to say something, but was suddenly at a loss for words. Shrek cast his eyes down and bit his lip again as a flush came to his cheeks. He had obviously gone further than he had meant to go. Much further. Fiona felt all traces of anger melt away, replaced by an emotion much stronger and purer.

Then the moment of awkward silence was shattered by derisive laughter coming from one voice – one irascibly familiar voice. The ogres turned to see Gledius standing at one end of the line of soldiers, his helmet's visor raised and a bemused expression on his face. "Now that was SO sweet," he said mockingly. "And I hate to break up this little scene before someone starts singing about wind beneath their wings, but there's a small matter of conspiracy to commit regicide that, I'm afraid to say, you're BOTH under arrest for."

Fiona felt anger pour back into her veins again, this time directed at the armor-clad captain. But there was something about his soldiers – Fiona hadn't noticed their demeanor when they had first entered, and could hardly read their expressions through the visors that covered their faces. But their body language, the way they shifted in place, the occasional glance to their fellow soldier, the way they held their weapons at the ready with less than total conviction – perhaps it was witnessing the exchange between Shrek and herself, but she thought she might have a chance here to avoid a fight which, although it might provide for some personal satisfaction on a gut level, might also have more negative repercussions for Duloc in the future.

Fiona mustered all the dignity she could and summoned forth her "royal" persona as she pointed an accusatory finger at Gledius and spoke. "You, Sir, have greatly exceeded your authority. As queen of this realm, I hereby dismiss you from your post in the royal guards. Further, I order YOU placed under arrest for treason to Crown and Country." She then addressed the soldiers while still pointing to Gledius. "Guards, take him away!" she ordered, filling her voice with as much strength and confidence as she could manage.

The soldiers began looking at each other in earnest now, their confusion obvious and pronounced. Gledius also looked taken aback and more than a bit frightened. Then he recomposed himself somewhat and laughed again, although the confidence the laugh held was more forced than before. "Nice try, Your Murderess," he said, "but I fear that your position, when acquired by killing our king, carries no authority. I have already convinced these men of your complicity in the vile crime."

"Have you?" Fiona retorted. "And may I not have a chance to convince them otherwise?"

Gledius paused for a moment, then said reluctantly, "You may," he said, "at your trial."

"MY trial?" Fiona said, and it was her turn to let out a non-entirely-heartfelt laugh. Then she turned to Beaglely, who had been calmly standing by and watching the proceedings with his trademark expressionless eyes. "Mr. Beaglely," Fiona said, starting to feel the confidence she feigned, "what does Dulocian law say about this situation?"

Fiona spent a very quick glance in Shrek's direction. He was looking at her with the same bemused admiration he had displayed the afternoon before when she had feigned concern for Donkey's health as an excuse to spend more time with her Rescuer. She just hoped that her performance now was more persuasive than the ruse that still managed to convince Donkey. Now, if only Beaglely came through…

But Beaglely was taking his time about coming through. Too much time. He glanced from Fiona to Gledius to the soldiers and back again, not in fear or confusion but like a mathematician studying a long and complex formula laid out before him on a chalkboard.

"Mr. Beaglely?" Fiona said again, trying to keep the concern from showing in her voice.

"Actually, Your Majesty," he finally said in his calm and analytical monotone, "Captain Gledius has a point. As Captain of the Guards, it is his duty to protect the rightful ruler of Duloc. If he feels that that ruler has met his end by foul means, he is obliged to take appropriate action."

"WHAT?!" Fiona half-gasped, half-screamed, her brain reeling at the words coming forth from the bespeckled little man.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," Beaglely said, his voice not reflecting sorrow nor any other emotion, despite the queen's obvious distress, "but he is within his rights under Dulocian law. Yours is not an ABSOLUTE monarchy. You may, of course, dismiss him if you wish – AFTER you have been cleared in lawful trial."

Fiona could only gape in soundless horror at Beaglely, who looked back calmly. Then Gledius's mirthless laughter began again, its confidence more than regained. "Well, now, Mr. City Manager, forgive my cynicism, but your actions now reminds me of a rat attempting to leave a sinking ship." Fiona felt herself in rare agreement about the 'rat' part as Gledius continued, "But do you really think you can avoid answering for your role in this conspiracy by betraying your green-skinned confederates now?"

Beaglely's demeanor did not change, although he did raise an eyebrow. "Conspiracy?" he asked calmly. "I had no role in any conspiracy. I had not met the queen nor her companions, nor had any communication with them, before tonight. My role began when she gained the crown. Under the – unusual circumstance where that happened, it was my duty to offer immediate advice and council, lest the situation or their impending departure bring forth anarchy. I had to make sure order was maintained."

"-I- would have maintained order," Gledius said, a smirk at the corner of his mouth, as his hand almost involuntarily rose and rested on the hilt of his sword.

"Yes, I'm sure you would have," Beaglely said, voicing the same words that went through Fiona's mind but not accented with the sarcasm that she would have tinged them with. "But I believed that a more conventional approach to Dulocian law was called for."

"You call turning over power to an ogre CONVENTIONAL?" Gledius demanded.

"I did not turn power over to her. That was done through the marriage. My job was to define and defend the law. That was my service to her. And, by the obligation of my position, it is now my service to you."

Gledius's face transformed from incredulity to self-satisfied triumph as he regarded the City Manager. Meanwhile, Fiona felt her heart sank. She turned away from Beaglely and looked at Milquest. "Lord Mayor?" she said, unable to maintain confidence in her voice, which now sounded more pleading as she fought to keep back tears.

Milquest also stood where he was, motionless but not expressionless. With Fiona's words, all eyes in the room turned to him, and he responded by breaking out in a sweat as his own eyes widened in fear and his mouth started working nervously but soundlessly.

"The Mayor was also simply performing his duty," Beaglely quickly interceded. "He would not even be here had it not been for my pointing out that his position required an immediate consultation with the new monarch."

"The FORMER monarch," Gledius corrected.

Beaglely shrugged. "As God wills," he said.

Fiona stared at Beaglely, dumbfounded. He looked back, not even averting his eyes, his blank expression not relaying even a hint of remorse for his treachery. She felt the stab of betrayal sink deep into her, gutting her soul. For a moment she felt forlornly empty. Then she felt something begin to fill the void. Something hot and volatile. The fury she felt at Beaglely – at Gledius, at Milquest, at ALL of the humans within the room – rose within her like a tidal wave rose as it neared the beach, and at that moment, she felt as if she could do more damage than even THAT irresistible force of nature. She looked at the soldiers, the candlelight glinting off of their weapons, weapons which they all quickly brought back to the ready as they saw her new expression – her bared teeth, vengeful eyes, and the bright reddish-green glow of her flushed skin. How many soldiers were there now? Fifteen? Maybe more? She saw there were some others in a second line behind the first. It didn't matter. With a deep growl in her throat she didn't know she was capable of, she raised her hands – now clenched into talons – and started striding toward them.

She was stopped in mid-stride by a firm hand grasping her upper arm from behind.

"NO, Fiona," Shrek said, his voice as firm and hard as the grip he had on her arm.

She whirled toward him, her eyes still ablaze. He looked at her, his own expression hard and his jaw set. "LET ME GO," she demanded.

"No," he said, quickly grabbing her other upper arm with his other hand, "there's too many, and they're too ready."

"I DON'T CARE! LET ME GO!" She shouted, and tried to pull away.

Shrek fought hard to keep hold of her. "NO! FIONA! NOT NOW!" he shouted back.

Fiona stopped fighting for a moment and tried to think. The way he was currently holding her, she could probably grasp his own arms in return, then she could fall down and backwards, which would force him to fall over top of her. As they rolled backwards, she could bring her feet up to his midsection and assist his fall by flipping him upwards and over her head. He would land a few feet away on his back, thus breaking his hold and allowing her to – to what? Fight a group of heavily armed soldiers on her own? True, she had bested the merry men in her human state – a more agile yet weaker state. But she had taken them by surprise, and there was only a fraction as many. Here, her chances of emerging unscathed – even alive – were not great. But part of her actually embraced the thought as it considered the alternative. The life expectancy of deposed monarchs was not long anyway. On the plus side, it would alleviate the pain of betrayal and self-loathing she felt for her own gullibility at getting her and Shrek into this. Shrek. What would then become of him? Nothing good, no doubt. And all because he was fool enough to love her. Her, the biggest fool of them all.

Just then her thoughts were disrupted by Shrek jerking her forwards to him. Suddenly his arms were around her in a strong embrace, and his mouth by her ear. "It's okay," he said, trying to sound soothing, "It's okay, Love. We'll get through this. But we can't fight them now. Not right now. We've got to bide our time."

"And how much time do you think they've give us to bide?" she whispered back, her voice cracking.

"Enough. We'll have enough. Have faith in that."

"I—I—I have faith in YOU," she said, and finally her voice cracked altogether. She sank against him, holding him tightly, and started to sob uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry," she gasped between sobs, "I'm SO sorry I got you into this."

"Shhhh. It's okay."

"No it's not! I just wanted to--"

"I know. It's okay. It's okay. It's t'be expected. It's not your fault. They're only human."

"But – but -I- was human," Fiona sobbed. The last time she had spoken those words she had done it defensively. Now it sounded apologetic.

"I know," Shrek said. "But you were … different."

Fiona felt her strength – both physical and emotional – collapse. She leaned more heavily against Shrek, and he pulled her closer to him and held her protectively in his broad arms. He patted her back and then reached up and stroked her hair. "It's okay," he repeated softly, "we'll get through this. It's okay."

Gledius watched the two with a smirk of triumph. The queen was broken, and as to her companion – well, there was time enough to decide that. After all, he WAS just a big, stupid, ugly ogre. Gledius wandered to the end of the council table and ran a finger along the crown that sat there. "It seems the queen has fallen down and lost her crown," he said bemusedly. Then he picked up the sunflower from it vase, looked at it for a moment, smelled it, then replaced it. "And the ogre shall go tumbling afterwards," he added, then he tipped the vase over and it fell off the table. It struck the floor and shattered into many pale green shards, the sunflower laying amongst them, helpless and alone. With deliberation, Gledius laid his heel on the flower's bulb – and ground it into pieces. Then he turned to his soldiers. "Take them away," he said.


	10. Chapter 8: The Highest Room

Chapter 8: The Highest Room

As the soldiers took them into custody, Shrek stayed alert, hoping to spy an opportunity for escape. He was surprised when one came so quickly.

Perhaps Gledius was overconfident, or perhaps he wasn't as competent a military officer as he fancied himself. In any case, he made two mistakes. First, as the soldiers led the two ogres out into the hallway – a hallway that was only six feed wide – they allowed Shrek and Fiona to walk side-by-side. True, Fiona at this point wasn't much of a threat. In fact, she appeared utterly broken, and Shrek was sure it was no act. She had ended her crying jag against his shoulder, but now she was despondent and listless. When they had started to lead the two out of the room, Shrek had to put his arm around her to support her, and she leaned heavily against him. But neither Gledius, who seemed content to stay behind and observe the large room – looking like the owner of a new house considering how he would redecorate – nor any of his underlings moved to separate the two ogres as they entered the hallway side-by-side. And, being side-by-side, there was no room to have guards TO their sides. Second, as they moved forwards, roughly half the soldiers lead the ogres and the other half trailed behind in single-file lines, so that only the soldier DIRECTLY in front of the prisoners and the one directly behind were capable of immediate contact with them. In addition to that, the one immediately behind them was armed with a long-handled battleaxe. A formidable weapon, but one that was not as easy to maneuver in close quarters, which was what this was. The soldier to the front of the ogres was armed with a sword, a more appropriate weapon for the situation. But HE was facing forwards as they moved down the hall, not looking at the ogres except for an occasional backward glance. Glances which Shrek quickly observed were regular and easily timed.

Shrek realized that he had an opening. The question was, when to take it. For there was one other thing he needed: a quick escape opportunity. Something he and Fiona could take advantage of after the briefest of fights. And as they strode down one hallway, about two-thirds of the way ahead down a hundred foot long passage, he saw it. There was a door ajar by about two feet. It opened inward, away from the hallway. And through the opening Shrek thought he glimpsed a stairway. As they moved closer he was sure of it; there was definitely a landing and a set of stairs beyond the door, and the door was not being guarded. It was not the stairway the soldiers were planning on taking, either; the first part of the entourage marched right past it.

As they drew near the door – a simple wooden door, he could now see – Shrek's mind raced. The door was on Fiona's side of the hallway. Unfortunately, there was no real way he could let Fiona know what was going through his mind. She was far past the point of noticing any subtle signals on his part now, and anything more overt might alert the soldiers. She was mostly staring glumly straight ahead, every so often sniffling again and wiping at her nose or an eye. She was still leaning heavily against him, as if most of her strength had been siphoned away. Even the arm that she draped around his waist for support felt weak. But as a plan congealed in Shrek's mind, he felt somewhat grateful for that. What he needed to do would take a lot more effort now with Fiona's heftier frame than it took during their playful shoving match on their journey to Duloc when she was in human form, but he thought he could do it. He HAD to do it.

As they came nearer the door, Shrek stealthily slid his arm down so his hand rested on Fiona's side closest to him and furthest from the door. As they drew adjacent to the portal, Shrek drew in a deep breath then suddenly shoved Fiona toward the door with all his might. She let go a surprised little shriek as her hurtling form smacked against the door, throwing it open as she sprawled through the doorway and onto the landing. Shrek didn't wait to see all this. The follow-through of his shove turned him completely around so that he was facing the soldier that had been behind them. Stunned, the soldier had barely started to move his battleaxe when Shrek grabbed hold of its handle with both his hands. The struggle for the implement lasted only a second as Shrek lifted one foot and half-pushed, half-kicked the soldier in the midsection., knocking the air out of him and sending him tumbling backwards into the soldiers directly behind him, taking out the first two or three. Shrek didn't wait for them to react; instead, he turned again, bringing the battleaxe up just in time to deflect the slicing sword of the soldier who had been marching in front of him. Shrek swiped the handle of the battleaxe upwards, clanging against the soldier's armored chest and knocking him aside. Shrek then dove through the open doorway, barely escaping a sword slice by the soldier that had been in front of the one he had just swept away. Once past the doorway, Shrek quickly grabbed the door and slammed it shut. He noticed that there was yet another soldier who had started reaching toward the doorway in an attempt to stop Shrek from closing it; the man had wisely pulled back at the last moment, and thus probably saved his fingers.

"You okay, Love?" he called over his shoulder as he braced the door with his body. He had latched it but there was, unfortunately, no lock. He glanced back to see Fiona, who had just picked herself off the landing and was brushing dirt off what was becoming a well-worn wedding dress.

"I'm fine," she replied, some spirit returning to a voice that sounded partially energized and partially perturbed at her treatment. "I wish you had given a me a little clue about what you were planning, though."

"Sorry, no time!" he said. Then he chuckled, even as he felt the blows begin thudding against the other side of the door. "Humans!" he said, giddiness over his accomplishment making him forget his audience for a moment, "they see an ogre and keep thinkin' 'bout size and strength. They keep forgettin' the dexterity part. Even after the tournament, they don't even think! I wonder sometimes if most of 'em don't have brains; just a collection 'o prejudices rattlin' around up there." Then he remembered himself, and looked back at her. "Oh," he said contritely. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

Fiona shrugged. "I don't feel like arguing the point," she said, "especially since my feelings towards may fellow – or FORMER fellow – humans is not very keen at the moment. But that's kind of irrelevant right now. What do you propose we do?"

"You head downstairs," Shrek said, "I'll be right behind ye. We'll see if we can't escape the castle. After that – well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Then he chuckled again, "And we'll hope it doesn't collapse underneath us like at Dragon's castle."

"Interesting plan," Fiona said. "Only one problem. These stairs don't go down. They only go up."

"WHA?" Shrek stammered, and looked back behind him again, this time more closely. Just beyond Fiona the stone stairway – some four feet wide – ascended upwards some twenty feet before taking a ninety degree turn and disappearing around the corner of the stairwell. But Shrek saw that they were indeed standing at the BOTTOM of that stairwell; there was no matching stairway heading downwards.

"Well, would ye look at that?!" Shrek said in mixed surprise, anger, and irritation. "Who the bloody blazes would design a stairway that only goes up THIS close to the top of the bloody castle?"

"How should I know?" Fiona replied, "I'm a royal, not an engineer."

"Well, then there's just one thing t'do," Shrek said, "go up."

"Up to WHERE?" she asked.

He shrugged. "We'll find out when we get there."

"But how will being HIGHER in this place HELP us?"

Shrek heard and felt a different type of thumping on the door, now. It was the sharp, splintering sound of a battleaxe. It wouldn't be long now. "Just go on up, Fiona," he said, "we'll figure the next move when we get up there."

"But—"

Shrek looked back at her. "GO!!" he shouted with as much urgency and strength of command as he could muster, hoping that would make SOME impression on her.

Fiona stared back at him, dumbfounded by the outburst. Well, he thought, at least he had made SOME impression. "I'll be right behind ye!" he added, "Now GO! DO IT!!"

Fiona let out a gasp of exasperation and started bounding up the stairs. As she disappeared around the first flight, two inches worth of a battleaxe's blade poked through the door right beside Shrek's hand. Shrek then took his own battleaxe and shoved its blade deep into the crevice between the door and doorframe just above the knob, effectively jamming it shut. He then pulled on and broke off the axe's handle, leaving him a sharp-ended, five-foot wooden spear as his only weapon. He started running toward the stairs, but had only ascended the first couple of steps when he heard the door burst open. He turned to see soldiers spilling into the room. The first few stopped for a moment to get their bearings, and their visor-covered faces turned toward him. Shrek struck a pose, holding the shaft outward and at the ready, looking like a cross between and kendo warrior and a vampire slayer. The soldiers froze for a moment, their swords at the ready, but they appeared in no hurry to use then. But then Shrek saw Gledius appear at the back of his men. "GET HIM!" the captain commanded. And, after another brief hesitation, the soldiers charged.

* * *

Fiona's trip up the stairs only lasted three flights, then the stairway came to an abrupt end at another closed door. Only this door was different – on it was attached a round, four-foot diameter shield, and on the shield was Farquaad's ornate "f," done in what looked like gold. "What the heck—" she began, then she heard the crash of the door opening below her, followed a few moments later by Gledius's "GET HIM!" Without thinking, Fiona reached forward and grabbed the shield by opposite sides and yanked. It ripped free and for a second Fiona stood there, grasping the shield and looking at its splintered moorings, surprised at her own strength. Then from below she heard the sounds of clanging armor and of metal striking wood, and she turned and started running back down the stairs.

* * *

Shrek slowly backed up the stairs until he was about half-way up the first flight, deflecting one soldier's sword with his shaft and then swinging the handle forward, knocking him back down the steps. The soldiers behind him did not seem in a hurry to take his place. Shrek was now in a position in the stairwell that only one or two soldiers could reach him at a time, which gave him an obvious advantage. "THAT THE BEST YE GOT?!" Shrek taunted with a sneer, his blood now hot with battle.

Gledius, standing safely off to the side at the bottom landing, smiled and simply called out, "Bowmen!"

Shrek was confused about what was going on for a moment as the soldiers with swords and spears fell back and away. Then Shrek could see four crossbow-wielding soldiers at the base of the stairwell, two kneeling and two standing behind them. All of them raised their weapons and pointed them at him.

"Oh-oh," Shrek muttered and bit his lower lip, suddenly aware of the helplessness of his position.

Gledius opened his mouth to give the order to fire, but his words were pre-empted by another voice, one barking a command with much more volume and authority than Gledius could ever manage. A female voice. One that sounded from BEHIND Shrek. It spoke a single word: "DUCK!!"

Shrek looked back to see Fiona standing at the top of the flight, carrying a large shield. She quickly shifted it so that she was holding it horizontally by its rim, then curled it at an arc to the side of her body as her steely blue eyes took aim past Shrek at the set of crossbowmen at the base of the stairs as if she were a bowler lining up her shot. They looked up at her in stunned surprise.

"SCATTER!" Gledius called. Shrek belatedly fell flat on the steps and the bowmen dropped their sights and dove to the side as Fiona flung the shield with a grunt. The large disk flew over Shrek's body and down the stairwell. He looked down to see it smash into the base of the landing where the bowmen had been just a moment before, burying itself into the stone about a foot up its diameter.

Then Shrek felt a strong hand grip the top of his vest just behind his neck. "COME ON!" Fiona said, somehow managing to pull the ogre half-way to his feet. Shrek stumbled the rest of the way up to a standing position as she let go and the two of them dashed up the stairs, the queen first and Shrek just behind. As they turned the corner of the first flight Shrek could hear a couple of crossbow bolts clatter against the stone stairwell. He reflexively swiped a hand across his posterior to make sure he hadn't picked up another stray missile.

As they came up to the door at the top of the stairwell and Shrek saw the broken moorings where Fiona had apparently ripped off the shield. He raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Is it locked?" he called.

"Don't know, didn't have time to try it" Fiona replied as they reached the portal. She reached forward, grabbing the knob and twisting. It was unlocked, and she pushed it open, saying "Thank God," as she raced through and held it open for Shrek. As soon as he was in she slammed it shut. Shrek turned to see that they were in even more luck – this door was much more sturdily built than the one below, and THIS one had a bolt, and a strong one. He quickly bolted the door as the first clattering of armor could be heard rounding the first flight, and both ogres fell against the door, panting heavily.

* * *

Fiona felt her heart racing. She looked over at Shrek, silently thanking God that he was alive. "Are you okay?" she managed to gasp out.

He looked back at her with those deep brown eyes and smiled, a smile that sent her heart racing again for a different reason. "I'm fine," he said, fighting to regain control of his own breathing. "And … thank ye … for savin' m'life just now."

Fiona raised an eyebrow in surprise, then gave a mischievous shrug and said with coy, mock confusion and modesty, "What?"

Shrek gave a brief laugh and Fiona giggled, dropping her transparent pretence. For an instant they both forgot where they were and what was on the other side of the door. It was suddenly brought back to them with a start as they heard the first loud pounding. Both ogres quickly dropped their brief mirth, instinctively looking back at the door for a moment, then both swung around to take account of where they now were.

They were in an ornately decorated bedroom, lit by several candelabras, a crackling fireplace, and some sort of strange hanging lanterns that sat to either side of an immense round bed that sat in the center of the room. The bed must have measured almost three yards in diameter, and upon it sat a zebra-stripe patterned blanket, but with stripes too broad and a surface too hairy to be true zebra skin. Near its apparent head stood a tall three-panel fold-out depicting some sort of fantasy woodlands scene, with a cartoon caricature of Farquaad dominating the center while off to the side in another panel a nondescript female figure, barefoot and wearing a dress decorated with little hearts, was approaching from out of the woods while in the opposite panel another figure – Fiona couldn't tell if it was supposed to be a Cupid-like fairy or a little demon – sat in another tree, watching. Fiona glanced away and down at her feet, and noted that they were standing on recently installed shag carpeting.

"Oh my God!" Fiona gasped, "This must be Farquaad's bedroom!"

"It WAS his bedroom," Shrek agreed, then they heard several more loud thumps at the door. "Come on, Fiona," he said, suddenly running over beside the bed, "we don't have much time!"

Fiona blinked. "I BEG your pardon?" she said, not quite believing her ears.

Shrek reached down toward the bottom of the bed. "Help me move this over to the door ta block it!"

"Oh!" she said, suddenly embarrassed, "I thought … uh, never mind."

She hurried over to the opposite side of the bed from where Shrek stood, looking dumbfounded over whatever had caused her to suddenly blush, and then she looked down at the massive piece of furniture. "I don't think I can lift this," she said.

"Sure ye can!" he assured her, "If ye can rip shields off-a walls and bury 'em in solid rock, ye can shove a bed a couple-a feet!"

It was a bit MORE than a "couple" of feet, as they both knew, but Fiona shrugged and reached down, grasping the bottom of the bed, and heaved. She had never pressed her limits as an ogress. When in her inhuman state she usually spent the night curled up like a big green slug in her bed in Dragon's castle, praying for a rescuer to come and lift the curse from her, but praying even harder that he would not come at night. Now she lifted, straining muscles as she'd never done before. And, as she felt the bed rise a few inches, her heart beat strong in her chest – not just with the strain, she realized, but with an unexpected sense of – pride? That was silly, she rebuked herself, princesses weren't supposed to feel pride in such physical accomplishments. Feats of daring-do were to be performed by gallant knights on horseback – MEN to whom such things came naturally. Princesses were to sit to the side, coquetishly admiring such displays and rewarding their performers with shy glances and light, restrained applause. Fiona shuddered as she remembered that she had once longed for such an existence. But she had figured that such a life would suddenly appeal to her like – well, like magic – once the spell was lifted. Well, now the spell was lifted, but she realized her likes and wants and desires were the same as before. Because she was an ogress? No – no, she had the same feelings as a human. She just tried to suppress them. She looked over at Shrek. His eyes were fixed on the door as they slowly began to move the bed in that direction. In his face she saw the strain of the effort and the worry about getting them (or just getting HER?) out of this alive. But beyond that, she saw something else, something he might well deny. Joy. On some level, this was FUN. That emotion was even more apparent just a few minutes before, just after he had bested Gledius's soldiers and closed the door on them. And, as odd and out-of-place as it seemed, Fiona realized this was another area where he mirrored her. For the exhilaration she felt as she saw the soldiers scramble from her flung shield, like the feelings as she fought the merry men even when in her human form, briefly transcended whatever fear or terror she felt and made her feel more alive than any feeling other than – well, other than being held in Shrek's arms and feeling his lips press on hers.

As they continued to half-scoot, half-carry the bed toward the door, Fiona noticed other things in the room. Over here pairs of his-and-hers shoes sat out. Over there a couple of mannequins draped in royal nightgowns, one male and one female. And over by the fireplace stood a painting of two figures in semi-formal white attire standing hand-in-hand. One of the figures was Farquaad, his feet set upon a little mound so that he stood just taller than the other figure, a female. The way the candlelight glistened off the paint around the female figure's head indicated that that part of the painting had just been finished that day – and the head that had been painted there was that of Fiona. As she stared in near horror at the painting Fiona brushed up against a little table that had been standing by the bed. She looked over at it and saw that upon the table sat a small bucket filled with half-melted ice and water, and sticking out of the slush was a bottle of champagne. Pink champagne, obviously meant to celebrate the wedding and prepare for … what was to follow. Fiona felt a chill go up her spine much colder than the ice still floating in that bucket.

"FIONA!" Shrek barked from across the bed.

"Huh?" she said dully.

"You've stopped hauling. Are ye okay?"

"Yeah, fine," she responded, forcing her concentration back to the task at hand. "Let's go."

Fiona again heaved, and lifted the bed a foot off the floor as Shrek did the same. A few stumbling steps later and the bed was pressed against the door, behind which they could hear chopping, but chopping that was having much less effect against this thicker, stronger wood than the door below. "I guess Farquaad liked his privacy, too" Shrek observed, "now let's see if we can find a way outta here."

The two ogres turned and looked around the room again, this time their eyes straining for any possible exits. There was one other door, the window which led to another balcony, and the dumb-waiter, the last being too small for their large frames. Shrek rushed to the door while Fiona ran to the window.

Shrek opened the door and looked inside. Then he signed in disappointment and said, "It's just a closet."

Fiona looked down from the balcony railing at the ground even further down below. At least they were on the side of the castle opposite the one facing the square and illuminated by the rotating colored lights. Not that they could scale down the steep walls here – it was simply impossible. Fiona then looked around to see where the balcony stood in relation to the rest of the castle. When she realized the answer, she gasped, "Oh my Gosh!"

"What? What is it?" Shrek said anxiously as he approached her.

She turned towards him, almost laughed despite herself, then said, "We're trapped in the highest room of the tallest tower!"

Shrek stared at her for a moment, then gave a sardonic smile. "Well, that IS a tad ironic," he said. "Unfortunately the door's a wee bit blocked, so we can't crash outta here like we did back at Dragon's. But maybe …"

As Shrek trailed off his sentence he approached a bookcase sitting against a wall and started haphazardly tossing books off of it over his shoulders.

Fiona stared at him in confusion. "What are you DOING?" she asked.

"Sometimes in castles like this there's secret passages in castles that have levers that operate them in odd places," he replied.

"Why on earth would you think that?"

"I read it in a book once," he replied, abandoning the now empty bookcase and tapping on different areas of the wall.

Fiona sighed and shook her head, then slowly walked to the center of the room where the bed had been and stared at the bottle of chilled champagne in its bucket on the table. She imagined herself and Farquaad, newly wed, coming here and toasting their future. She could just see his smug, self-satisfied face as he drank from his glass. She could almost feel his clammy little hand as he took hers and … the chills that racked her at the thoughts that followed caused her to cross her arms and shiver. But the repulsion at her own imaginings was not all that she was feeling. There was something else, too. A feeling like …

Like she was being watched.

She looked over to the door. The constant axe-pounding was getting slowing and progressively louder, but the door was still holding for now. Shrek was still fiddling around with objects on the wall, trying to find some elusive, hidden exit, and looking around the rest of the room she could see no one else. Then, for some reason she couldn't explain, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and she slowly looked up.

Fiona gasped when she suddenly found herself staring at the face of another ogress, cross-armed and dressed just like her, staring back DOWN at her from directly above. Then she felt a moment of relief when she realized that she was just staring at a mirror that had been hung on the ceiling. But when her reflection suddenly swirled away in what looked to be a while cloud of mist, replaced a moment later by a face that resembled a pale, empty-eyed and expressionless theatrical mask that stared down at her from inside the mirror, she did more than gasp. She screamed.

"FIONA! WHAT'S WRONG"?! Shrek called as he ran over to her, taking her arms in his huge hands. She just continued to stare, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, up at the ceiling. He followed her gaze and saw the mirror – and its face. "HOLY SWAMP TOADS, WHAT THE BLAZES ARE YOU?" Shrek said to the pallid, now seemingly frightened face.

"Oh, uh, good evening, Your Majesty, Mr. Zach," the mirror stammered at attempted good humor which did not quite hide its apparent fear.

Fiona somehow overcame her own fear and shock for a moment at the odd salutation. "Zach?" she said, then looked at Shrek. "Zach?" she repeated to him.

But Shrek did not look at her. He continued to stare up at the mirror, his brow furrowed and his mouth set in a disgruntled frown. "Yeah," he said, apparently replying to her, "that's me last name."

"Zach?" Fiona said, surprised.

"Yeah," Shrek said again, then addressing the mirror, "an' what I wanna know is, how do YOU know it?"

"Zach?" Fiona repeated to herself, bemused despite the situation.

"Well, uh, that's what I DO," the mirror replied to Shrek. "You see, um, people consult me to find out things like, oh, who the fairest of them all is, where one can find certain people or things, stuff like that. So I've gotta keep up on everything."

"Well, where did ye find out me last name?" Shrek said, "It's not like it's common knowledge."

"Oh, of course it isn't!" the mirror agreed. "Such things just come to me like magic. In fact 'Magic' is my first name! Literally! Perhaps – uh – I can tell you something that you'd like to know?"

"Okay," Shrek said, "are there any secret passages that we can use to get outta here?"

"Secret? No, I'm afraid not," the mirror replied, "what you see is pretty much what you get. But is there anything ELSE that you'd like to know?"

"Yes," Fiona said, looking back up at the mirror. "I'VE got a question."

"Certainly, Your Majesty!" the mirror said, then added cautiously, "but you aren't going to do that 'fairest of them all' question, are you? I'm afraid I have to tell the truth. I'm sorry, but it's my curse."

"No," Fiona said, her own brow furrowing and voice grumbling, "I was just going to ask what the heck are you DOING up there?"

"Oh, uh, Lord Farquaad ordered me to be mounted up here earlier in the day for – well, uh, in preparation for tonight."

"Huh?" Fiona said, confused again. Then she noticed once more that she was standing about where the middle of the bed was, and staring directly up at the mirror. "OH," she said in sudden realization that bordered on horror, then looked down in embarrassment and blushed. "Oh," she said again. Then, suddenly, she began to giggle. But it was not a happy giggle, and it started to grow louder.

"Fiona?" Shrek said, looking at her with concern.

But Fiona's giggling grew louder still until she found herself laughing uncontrollably. Shrek then grasped her arms and shook her back and forth violently for a moment, saying, "FIONA! SNAP OUT OF IT!"

Fiona continued to laugh, but managed to choke out, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Shrek, but – mirrors on the ceiling – pink champagne on ice – now we're both just prisoners here –"

"FIONA! PLEASE! WE'VE GOT TO KEEP OUR HEADS!" Shrek pleaded.

Suddenly there was an especially loud crash at the door as an axe apparently broke through one of the outer boards. It was not an encouraging sound, but as both ogres swung their heads in that direction it did sober Fiona instantly, ending her laughing fit altogether. She then commented dryly, "That 'keeping our heads' thing may be easier said than done."

Shrek looked up at the mirror. "Ye say you're magic. Is there any way ye can zap us outta here?"

The mirror shook its head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Zach, but that's beyond my ability. Mine's a pretty passive power, really. People just stare at me idly while I show them things. It doesn't sound like much, but I hear it's the wave of the future."

Then Fiona got an idea. She looked up at the mirror and asked, "You said you could show other people in other places?"

"Yes."

"Can we talk to them?" she inquired.

"Why, yes!" the mirror replied brightly, "That IS within the realm of my – "

"Then show us the witch!"

"Which witch?"

"The witch that was here earlier this evening. The one with the gingerbread house."

The mirror bowed its head slightly. "As you wish, Your Majesty," it said theatrically, then its image faded away and slowly a new scene appeared within the glass. Fiona and Shrek found themselves looking at the figure of the witch. She was still dressed as she was earlier, but in addition she had an apron across her front, a surgical mask covering her mouth, and pair of latex gloves on her hands. She was leaning over a small table, holding a tube of icing and apparently working on a small figure that laid on a cookie sheet on the table between a pair of candles. The figure was that of a gingerbread man, one who was obviously alive by the way he was squirming. They were in what appeared to be the kitchen of a cottage, although instead of wood the walls and shelves were made of gingerbread themselves, and upon the shelves, in addition to tins of flour and sugar, sat bowls and jars with odd labels containing things that Fiona would just as soon not think about.

The witch's voice then faded in. She was speaking sharply to the Gingerbread Man.

"Would you PLEASE hold still!" she said irascibly.

"But that tickles!" the Gingerbread Man replied in a high, squeaky voice.

"Do you want your leg back on or NOT?"

"Yes, but –"

"Then hold still, blast it!"

"Yes, ma'am."

The witch started on the Gingerbread Man's leg again, carefully working the icing tube.

"Are you sure you can't do the other one tonight, too?" the little figure asked.

"I TOLD you, I've got to wait for that special batch of CGI-enriched gingerbread flour to arrive," she grumbled, "I can't use dough from regular flour on you, you'd reject it in a minute."

"CGI?" the Gingerbread Man asked.

"Uh-huh. 'Cookies Granted Intelligence', or something like that. I can't keep up with the stupid technical jargon. Anyway, the shipment should be here in about a week."

"A WEEK?" the Gingerbread Man shrieked, his voice rising even higher.

"Yeah," the witch replied coolly, "what'd ya expect, air mail? You shouldn't have let that little puke Farquaad grind your other leg to the point it was unusable in the first place."

"I could hardly stop him!" he objected.

"Whatever," the witch said. "And so now, you wait. Sorry, but that's the way the cookie crumbles."

"Excuse me!" Fiona called.

"GAAH!" both the witch and Gingerbread Man gasped at the sudden, unseen voice which appeared out of nowhere.

"Oh, Jeez!" the witch said irritably, then glancing around the ceiling, "Don't DO that! Edna, is that you? I TOLD you not to call me after –"

"No," Fiona said, "it's me. Fiona."

"'Fiona'?" the witch repeated, furrowing her brow, "Sorry, doesn't ring a bell. Look, if you're some kind of telemarketer –"

"No! It's QUEEN Fiona, of Duloc."

"OH!" the witch said, "Queen Mouse-ears! The green girl!"

Fiona fought back a flash of anger and, with gritted teeth, said, "Yes, that's right."

"Look," the witch said, gesturing off to the side, "if this is about re-animating that bear rug, it's on my to-do list –"

"No! This is more urgent! I need you to use your bewitching power to help ME!"

The witch frowned. "Sorry," she said, nodding down to the Gingerbread Man, "I'm busy now. I'll be wit'cha in a minute." Then she chuckled to herself. "I always WANTED to say that!"

Fiona fought back a moan and said, "Please! I'm speaking to you through a magic mirror. Shrek and I are trapped in the highest room of the tallest tower of Farquaad's castle. Captain Gledius has launched a coup and is about to break through the door!"

"Don't ya just HATE when that happens?" the witch asked.

"Can't you do something to help us?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know," Fiona said, her frustration starting to show, "YOU'RE the witch. Can't you mumble some incantation or something and get us out of here?"

The witch shook her head, also frustrated. "Laymen," she muttered, "all they think we have to do is wave a stick or wiggle our noses or blather 'higgledy-piggledy-pooh' and POOF, magic happens. Sorry, Sister, but in real life it don't work that way. Oh, there are some show-offs that make it LOOK easy, but trust me, behind the scenes there's been a lot of prep time. These things have to be done DELICATELY. Speaking of which …" The witch then leaned over and started carefully working on the Gingerbread Man's leg again with the icing tube.

"But can't you do ANYTHING to help us?!" Fiona pleaded.

"Lemme think about it. I'll get back to you."

"PLEASE! We're at the end of our rope!"

"Sorry," the witch said, "we're closed." Then the image of the witch and her cottage faded and Fiona again found herself looking back into the face of Magic Mirror.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," the mirror said, looking partly sympathetic and partly fearful of the ogres' reaction.

"Oh, GREAT!" Fiona spat, turning to Shrek, "NOW what do we –" Fiona trailed off as she saw the way Shrek was staring off at nothing in particular, his face that of a man having an epiphany.

"Rope!" Shrek said, as if the word expressed a concept that answered all of life's riddles.

"Huh?" Fiona said, not quite tuned to his wavelength.

"Rope!" Shrek repeated, as if that were all the explanation needed, and ran over to the dumbwaiter.

"We can't fit down THAT!" Fiona said, surprised that Shrek didn't already realize that.

"We don't need to!" Shrek said, then reached in to where the rope of the dumbwaiter was attached to a pulley at the top of the shaft, and ripped it out. He then started to quickly reel in the rope of the dumbwaiter, hand-over-hand, explaining, "If this rope goes all the way down to the kitchen on the INSIDE, then we should be able to trail it out the window on the OUTSIDE to the ground below!"

Fiona gaped at him for a moment, then exclaimed, "Shrek! You're BRILLIANT!"

The ogre shrugged. "I have me moments," he said.

Fiona smiled at him, but a particularly loud crack from the door caused her to swing her head in that direction and wiped her smile away. "HURRY!" she said, "They've gotten through another board!"

"Goin' fast as I can," Shrek replied, then suddenly the dumbwaiter cart itself appeared in the opening. Shrek quickly ripped the rope off the top of it, letting the cart tumble back down the shaft, then picked up the pile of rope and ran to the balcony. He tied one end of it securely to the balcony railing as Fiona joined him, glancing anxiously between the door and Shrek. Once tied, he tossed the rest of the rope over the railing. It trailed down the tall structure, the far end of it finally coming to a stop only some six feet from the ground below.

"Great!" Fiona said, "let's go!"

"Waitaminute," Shrek said, picking up and examining a length of the rope.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, I'm not sure if this'll hold. It wasn't exactly built to support the weight of one ogre, let alone two."

Fiona opened her mouth to respond, then suddenly there was an even louder crash at the door. She looked back to see that an axe head had actually broken through the structure, leaving a roughly foot-wide hole in its wake. She swung her head back to Shrek and said, "We've got to take that chance!"

Shrek thought for a brief moment, then said, "Let's go down one-at-a-time to be safer. You first."

"NO!" Fiona said, "There won't be time for that!"

"Fiona – "

"NO! Either we go together, or I'm staying right HERE!" she declared, crossing her arms and cocking her head defiantly.

Shrek sighed in defeat. "Okay. FINE," he said, then reached over, grabbed Fiona, swept her off her feet and slung her across his back. She shrieked with surprise as he grunted with the strain, the maneuver requiring considerable more effort than when he had done the same thing when she was in human form.

"HEY!" she objected with wounded pride, "I'm quite capable of – AAAAH!" Her objection was cut short as Shrek, Fiona secured over his shoulder, swung over the balcony and started sliding down the rope as quickly as he could.

After a moment of reflection as they slid, Fiona gasped, "Oh my gosh! I just realized something!"

"What's that?" Shrek said, most of his mind still fretting about the strength of the rope.

"This is my rescue plan! Remember? Rescued from the highest room in the tallest tower of a castle by a knight who would sweep me off my feet, out the window and down a rope onto his valiant steed?"

"Oh," he said, "yeah, that's kinda interestin'. But in case ye hadn't figured it out yet, I'm not exactly a knight."

"Certainly you are! Okay, maybe not officially, but you're certainly my one-of-a-kind knight!"

"That's sweet," Shrek chuckled despite himself. "But wasn't there somethin' in your little fantasy about the castle being beset by a dragon?"

"It was – earlier – sort of. Okay, maybe it doesn't fit 'my little fantasy' EXACTLY, but how much of any of the last couple of days HAS?"

"True," Shrek conceded, "now, if I only had me 'valiant steed' waitin' below –"

Just then Donkey appeared from an alleyway, panting violently with a panicked look in his eyes, and ran to a spot directly under the rope and started looking around to see if anyone was following him, oblivious to the ogres now just some thirty feet above him.

Shrek paused in his descent. He looked over his shoulder dumbfoundedly at Fiona, who stared back at him with the same expression. He then shook his head and said "Naaah" while Fiona giggled.

The noise alerted Donkey, who looked around him and stammered, "WHOZZAT?! WHOZZAT?!"

"Donkey!" Shrek called down, "It's me! We're up here!"

"Huh?" Donkey said, then looked up to see the ogre couple. "Shrek!" he said with relief, smiled briefly, then a confused look came upon his face. "What're you doin' up there?"

"I'm rappellin'," Shrek replied.

"Oh, man," Donkey said, "Shrek, this is NO TIME to suddenly start worrin' about your B.O.! I've got a gang of soldiers after me!"

"Yeah, us too," Shrek said, and started sliding down the rope again, "Gledius broke in and –"

Shrek's words were cut short as the rope itself was suddenly cut by a sword on the balcony above. Fortunately the two ogres were within ten feet of the ground when it was severed. They fell in a heap onto Donkey. Fiona somehow found herself laying on top of Shrek, who had landed on his back. Donkey laid below him uttering pained, muffled oaths. Fiona looked down at Shrek's face and saw him grimacing.

"Shrek!" she said anxiously, "What's wrong? What hurts?"

Shrek pointed further down his body and half-mouthed, half-hissed the word, "OWWW."

Fiona followed his gesture and saw that one of her knees was bend upward and had come to rest – and was resting heavily – against a particularly sensitive part of Shrek's anatomy. "OH!" she gasped, "Sorry!" She moved her knee and then looked back at him and blushed. "Uhhh… better?" she asked, embarrassed.

"Much," he said, smiling up at her, amused by her expression. She broke into a smile also, despite herself, then shyly looked away as her blush deepened. Shrek sighed, "I guess we'd better hurry up and get goin' b'fore –"

Suddenly they heard the clank of metal on cobblestone. Shrek and Fiona looked up to see that they were surrounded by a group of soldiers with cocked crossbows trained on them. Only one soldier did not carry the weapon, and that was Maximus. "Sorry to interrupt this tender moment – so to speak," he said, "but you're both under arrest."

The two ogres glared back at him with sneers of defiance, then the large bell in the church bell tower started sounding. The ogres looked up at it in surprise, but Maximus simply said, "Midnight. The witching hour. How appropriate."

Donkey finally pushed his head out from under Shrek's body as the tolling continued. "Hey, what's that thing ringin' for?" he asked, then saw Maximus and cowered.

"Ask not for whom the bell tolls," Maximus said, "it tolls for thee."

"Yeah, yeah," Donkey said, "I get it. Don't ask, don't tell. But what's gonna happen to us now?"

"Now," Maximus said, "you go to prison."


	11. Chapter 9: The Midnight Hour

Chapter 9: The Midnight Hour

"How rude!" Goldilocks said.

"Huh?" the witch looked over in surprise at the unexpected sound, nearly making a mistake as she finished the last icing suture on the Gingerbread Man's leg. Goldilocks was standing a few feet away just inside the door of the cottage. Her arms were crossed and on her face was a look of rebuke. "Oh," the witch said, pulling her surgical mask down and removing her latex gloves, "it's you. I thought you'd be gone by now with the others."

"They're still trying to get the shoe loaded," the girl responded.

"Really?" the witch said, then glanced out of the window. A few yards away in the clearing where the fairy tale creatures had been camped a few soldiers were still trying to get the little old lady's double-wide shoe mounted onto a 30-foot long roller skate, to which a team of horses was hitched. The lady herself was trying to direct their efforts while several of her children ran about at play, not helping at all. The group seemed to represent the last vestiges of the horde of refugees that had flooded the yard earlier – all the others had quickly and joyously left shortly after the witch had returned from her quest in Duloc and read Fiona's decree. But as the witch looked around the clearing with a bit more scrutiny, she could see that they had left debris in several places to mark their presence. "Blasted litter-bugs," the witch cursed, "they got no respect for nature!"

"And they'd still be there if it wasn't for Queen Fiona!" Goldilocks chimed in.

The witch signed. "Look, Blondie," she said, "you don't get to be two centuries old like me by sticking your neck out for NOBODY."

"TWO CENTURIES?!" Goldilocks gasped.

The witch tossed her head back and sneered. "Hey! When you get to be two centuries old, look this good YOU won't!"

Goldilocks shook her head, forcing herself back to the subject at hand. "But you know that's not the POINT!" she pleaded. "Queen Fiona did you such a big favor, and when she needs you to help her, you turn your back on her! That's not witches with HONOR would do! They'd try to rescue her!"

"Oh, yeah! Right before they get burned at the stake!" the witch said indignantly. "Okay, you little eaves-dropper. I told your green-skinned heroine that if there was anything I could do to repay her, to let me know. Then she DID – she asked me to revive Shaggy over there" – she gestured toward the Momma Bear rug draped over an old, padded chair – "now, do you know how much TROUBLE it'll be to cast such a spell? I'll gathering and brewing and chanting for HOURS! No. I offered, and she took me up on it. I've FULFILLED my debt."

"So, Fiona helps the bear, and now she dies 'cause of it?"

"Sorry, kid. Life sucks like an Electrolux. Get used to it. I fulfilled my obligation, and I don't do charity work."

Goldilocks gestured to where the Gingerbread Man was sitting on the baking sheet, feeling his reattached leg. "You helped HIM," she pointed out.

The witch shrugged. "When it comes to baked goods, you might say I've got a soft spot in my heart, as well as my pantry," she said. Then, smiling mischievously, she reached down, picked up the Gingerbread Man, and held him out toward Goldilocks. "However, if you'd care for a bite …"

The Gingerbread Man's scream was matched by Goldilocks's look of horror. "Oh, come on!" the witch chuckled, "I was just kidding!" Neither the child nor the cookie seemed amused. The witch's chuckle faded to a sign as laid him back down on the sheet. "He wasn't that hard a project, and there was no personal danger involved. This Queen Fiona is … different."

"That's right," Goldilocks said, "SHE isn't afraid to stick her neck out to help people!"

"You're right, there!" the witch conceded, "Unfortunately, it sounds like she'll probably be sticking her neck out for the last time pretty soon – so's to make a better target for the executioner's blade! I'm sorry, kid, but I've done all I can. I'm sorry I couldn't do better but I've got my OWN problems."

"Oh, you're a real hero!" Goldilocks said sarcastically. Too upset to notice the way the witch's frown deepened or eyes narrowed at the rebuke, the girl continued, "Most people said that ogres are ugly. But I think they're pretty. 'Specially inside, Queen Fiona is so pretty. But witches – people say they're ugly, too. And lots are, on the outside. But if they're all like you, they're ugly through and through!"

A growl emanated from deep within the witch's throat and her upper lip curled pack, revealing uneven, yellow-stained teeth. "Funny," she snarled, "you were the last to arrive here – in fact, you weren't even HERE until I got back from the castle with the decree freeing you squatters – and you've already worn out your welcome. Are you always such a troublesome houseguest?"

Goldilocks reflexively glanced toward Momma Bear, blushed, and looked away. "Ah!" the witch said, "So I'm not the first to complain! Well, I suggest you leave my house before I make sure I'm the LAST. Capisce?"

"You sound pretty brave," Goldilocks responded, choking back the first tears, "when picking on LITTLE GIRLS."

"GO!!" the witch roared, losing all patience.

Goldilocks's eyes grew wide with fright, then she started crying, turned, and ran out of the cabin, slamming the door shut behind her. As she ran, though, she noted that the witch's broom was propped up on the wall just beside the door. After the door slammed, the witch mumbled several oaths under her breath as she started cleaning up the paraphernalia sitting about the kitchen. The Gingerbread Man, who had been silently watching the exchange, started testing his newly attached leg again for movement and feeling. Neither noticed when the door silently re-opened a crack and a little girl's hand snaked in, grabbed the broom, and whisked it away.

* * *

Milquest stared down from the balcony of the Council Chamber as Maximus led the ogres and Donkey around the corner of the castle. The trio was surrounded by crossbow-wielding soldiers, each with their weapon cocked and trained on the prisoners. Milquest was not fond of heights, but that was not what was making him sick to his stomach right now.

"Good Lord, what have we done?" he moaned.

"What we HAD to do," a voice came from behind. Milquest spun around to see Beaglely standing there, looking stoic as usual.

Milquest looked past Beaglely into the room beyond to make sure there was nobody there. Gledius and the remaining soldiers had rushed out when they heard the ruckus from up the hallway during the ogres' escape attempt. "Did we, Clarence?" Milquest asked. "Did we, really?" Milquest turned and looked back down as Fiona, Shrek and Donkey were led through the prison's outer doors. "The ogre was right," the mayor said. "My metal was tested, and proved about as sturdy as tin foil."

"You had no choice," Beaglely consoled him. "Battles can be won or lost; what is important is to keep your eye toward the ultimate purpose – winning the WAR. To pursue and commit to battles where there is no chance of winning can be foolhardy. It is important to know when to use discretion – to know when to commit your resources and take a stand and when to retreat to fight another day. One MUST keep one's overall strategy in mind."

"You make it sound like a chess game," Milquest said, then gestured toward the prison. "Unfortunately, we've just sacrificed our queen."

"Our queen's not sacrificed yet. For now, she's just being kept in check, if you'll pardon the gender confusion."

Milquest thought about what Beaglely said for a moment, then uttered a sad, mirthless chuckle. "Are you sure about all that, Clarence?" the mayor asked.

Beaglely frowned. "I don't understand. Sure about all what, exactly?"

"That you haven't unconsciously developed this 'strategy' talk as a way of rationalizing your OWN cowardice?"

"Cowardice?" Beaglely echoed, raising an eyebrow but keeping his voice steady. "No. My actions are consistent with our goal of establishing a democratic Duloc as well as my duties as keeper of Dulocian law."

"Ah, a conservative, orderly revolutionary!" Milquest said, almost mockingly. "And what, pray tell, will happen if you have to decide between those virtues? Which will you choose?"

Beaglely looked directly at Milquest and without hesitating, replied, "If it should ever come to that, then my choice is clear. Without law and order, such a radical attempt to launch a people's democracy might too easily degenerate into the anarchy and mob rule we talked about earlier. If we cannot establish change peacefully and orderly, then we should not try at all."

Milquest shook his head morosely, staring down at the now closed prison doors. "We should have just let them go when the ogre wanted to, Clarence."

Beaglely opened his mouth to respond when Gledius pushed the Council Chamber doors open and confidently strode in. It took him a moment to spot the two over on the balcony, but when he did an oily smile spread across his face. "Well, gentlemen!" he said buoyantly, "We finally have the beauty-turned-beast and her cohorts safely locked away. However, without a functioning monarch or regent, that leaves Duloc in a very precarious situation. For the security of the province, I believe there is no choice but for me to declare myself military governor until we might better reconcile matters. Mr. Beaglely, do you see any problems with my taking such measures?"

Milquest thought he heard a not-too-subtle challenge in Gledius's voice as he spoke the question. But if he was hoping to goad Beaglely into some telling reaction, he did not succeed. Instead, the city manager calmly replied, "Considering the circumstances, and given your security duties, then yes, such a declaration would be within the dictates of Dulocian law … _Sir_." The city manager then dutifully bowed.

Gledius's smile seemed to grow impossibly broader, and Milquest inwardly winced. "We should have just let them go," echoed through his mind.

* * *

Fiona again found herself marching beside Shrek, under guard. Now, though, there were two differences. First, this time the ogres (and now the trailing donkey) were being kept under the VERY watchful eyes of soldiers, on all sides, and all of them now wielding cocked crossbows with hair triggers trained on their prisoners. The other difference: Fiona was angry. And this time she stayed angry. They had escaped, blast it! They had faced the odds and fulfilled (after a fashion) her dream rescue. They were supposed to be living happily-ever-after now, not marching toward oblivion! This wasn't fair! The self-blame and loathing she had felt for herself earlier were still there, but she fought now to keep it suppressed under a layer of bubbling fury. She nurtured the rage, only restraining it enough to keep its physical expression from getting them all killed. However, if another opportunity for escape presented itself, she wanted to make sure she was more of an aide to Shrek, and not some oversized, wimpish rag doll whose only use to him was as an inert battering ram. She spared a glance in Shrek's direction, and saw him glancing about with the same hard eyes and sneer that she realized she was wearing herself. The hand she had hooked under his upper arm could feel the large biceps muscle there tense, rock-hard, and she knew that he was also waiting an opportunity to unleash his own fury.

As they reached the door of the prison the group halted as the jailkeeper, a paunchy, middle-aged soldier with a long graying moustache, wearing a plain chain-mail and cloth uniform topped by a simple oval-domed helmet that resembled a short dunce cap, met Maximus and looked over his charges with wide eyes.

"Good Lord, sir, you hooked some big ones tonight!" he exclaimed. "How many men did you loose in roundin' up this surly lot?"

"None, fortunately," Maximus responded, "the good Lord was indeed with us tonight."

"Any particular place you want them put?" the jailkeep asked.

"I would think the dungeon would be best."

"Ah, sorry sir. The dungeon is closed right now. It's undergoing renovations to make it handicapped-accessible for the tour groups. Lord Farquaad's orders." The jailkeep's eyes narrowed as he asked in a softer voice, "Is it true what they said happened to him?"

"Yes," Maximus replied, "King Farquaad was devoured by a dragon, under the direction of this group, who were themselves, no doubt, acting under the influence of THE dragon, the King of Lies, Lucifer himself!"

"Saints preserve us!" the jailkeep gasped, crossing himself, "That be heavy!" Then, after thinking for a moment, he said, "Well, most of the cells already have prisoners in them. There's so many laws governin' behavior nowadays it's hard to turn around without breakin' at least two of 'em. But we do have a cell that only has one prisoner, the leader of that pack of robbers they brought in earlier today."

"Sturdy bars?"

"Oh, yes, sir!" the jailkeep said with a touch of pride. "It was chosen specifically for that fellow, since he's been known to affect an escape or two of his own. It'd hold an elephant, I'd wager! It should do for this crew."

"Very well," Maximus said, and signaled to his men to lead their prisoners forward.

As they entered the door and proceeded down a stone torch-lit hallway following the jailkeeper, Maximus, sword drawn, made sure his men took extra precautions should the ogres or donkey try another escape. At one point in the short trek Fiona thought she saw an opportunity and began to make a move, only to feel Shrek tense his arm to force her hand to stay between it and his side. "Steady," he mumbled softly, as if he were trying to rein back a wild mustang, instead of an ogress with the spirit of one. She reluctantly yielded to his judgement – for now.

Eventually the group of prisoners rounded a corner into a small room containing a single cell – and in that cell, a single prisoner. But the face of that prisoner, as he stood from where he was sitting on one of the two bunks to behold his visitors, was familiar. Very familiar.

"MONSIEUR HOOD!" the ogres gasped in unison. Donkey quickly peeked around from his obscured view behind his friends, saw the robber, and said, "Oh, no, not HIM again!"

"Sacre bleu!" the tall, dark-haired, green-clad figure exclaimed in a thick French accent. He smacked the palm of his hand against the forehead of what most would describe as a sturdily handsome face and said, "Not zat green beast again! And who izzat with hem, his mate?!"

Fiona's eyes narrowed as she stared at Hood. "I'm nobody's 'MATE', you two-bit highwayman!" she shot back at him as the jailkeep unlocked and opened the cell door, "I'm –"

"'Queen' Fiona of Duloc," Maximus finished for her, then gesturing toward the man already in the cell, "meet the 'Prince' of Thieves. Both, alas, dethroned."

"We've already met," Fiona said coldly as she, Shrek, and Donkey were ushered into the cell.

"We have?" the robber said, a look of confusion crossing his face as he stroked his goatee and tried to concentrate, "I do not recall zee occasion. However," he turned to Shrek as the cell door was shut and locked, "YOU, Monsieur, I recall very well! How you managed to elude my daggar, knock me cold, and zen defeat my brave band speaks of great agility or great magic!"

Shrek started to open his mouth, but Fiona spoke up first. "HE knocked you cold and defeated your band?!" she repeated, aghast.

"Mai oui," Hood confirmed, "one minute I was about to ram my blade through his 'eart, and zen – poof – no-thing. Out cold. When I awoke, my men and I were in a barred wagon heading for Duloc. Zey told me zat, while I was out, zey put up a spirited fight, but zee hideous monster was too quick and powerful for zem." He bowed his head briefly to Shrek, "No offence intended."

Fiona's jaw dropped. "THEY told you HE defeated them?" she repeated again, her dander up. "The liars! I'M the one who defeated them! AND knocked you out, too, for that matter!"

Hood frowned. "Hummm," he mused, "you mean you were hiding nearby, and attacked us when you saw your fellow beast in danger?" he asked, then continued without waiting for a reply, "Yes, zat would explain why I was caught off-guard, and may-be my men were confused –"

"HIDING, NOTHING!" Fiona fumed, "I was up in a tree, where YOU put me! I was the human princess! Remember? Red hair? Gold tiara? Green felt dress?"

Hood looked at Fiona's still red hair, scrutinized her facial features more closely, and then brightened. "Aha! Je comprend! You changed into an ogre zen leapt down to give battle!"

"No, no, no!" Fiona said, frustrated, "I was still human at the time!"

"You mean – surely you DON'T mean – " Hood stammered, "zat you – as a HUMAN GIRL – defeated my merry men and I – ALONE?"

"YES!" she shouted at Hood's incredulous expression, "That's EXACTLY what –" She stopped as she caught the faint chuckling beside her and swung toward Shrek. "And just what are YOU laughing at?!" she demanded.

Shrek stopped chuckling, then smiled at her and said, "Fiona, m'love, let's just say that a bunch of macho men lyin' about bein' trashed by some skinny little vixen is one of the LEAST unbelievable things that's happened the last coupl'a days.

"Oh, yeah," Fiona said, peeved, "and I'm sure it doesn't bother you that YOU get all the credit. But then, it does help your precious reputation as a big bad ogre, doesn't it?"

"I don't give a darn about my bad reputation," Shrek sighed, "I just wanna go home to the swamp. All of us. But it looks like that plan's been but on hold for a while." He turned to Hood. "How did ye wind up here, anyway?"

Hood started to reply, but Maximus spoke up from outside the cell. "Some hunters heard a disturbance in the woods. When they went to investigate, they found the 'people's champion' and his cohorts knocked unconscious. The hunters ran for the nearby sheriff and the gang was rounded up and shipped here, as we were the nearest facility that could handle them all. They arrived earlier today – actually, it was yesterday now – while everybody was busy with all the wedding preparations."

"So where's the others? Hood's gang, I mean?" Shrek asked.

Maximus shrugged. "They're in a cell in another room. We decided to separate them, just to be safe. We didn't want him and his men planning any escape attempts while we were preoccupied with preparing for the wedding and coronation of our king and new queen." Maximus gave a scornful smile. "I suppose we were worried about the wrong group of conspirators." He placed a hand over one of the thick bars and tried to shake it. It had no give. "It looks like this should do," he said, and nodded to the jailkeep, who nodded back appreciatively.

"I'll keep an eye on 'em, sir!" the jailkeep promised.

"Good man," Maximus said, then turned to face the prisoners. "We'll let you know what we plan to do with you. Have a … pleasant night."

"But, zir?" Hood spoke up, approaching the bars, "Do you mean to just leave me locked in here with zeese … beasts?" A glint of fear reflected briefly in his eyes.

Maximus shrugged again. "Criminals cannot be so choosy about the company they keep. Don't worry. If anything happens to you, it will add to the charges already piled on their heads."

"An' those charges ARE?" Shrek asked, a challenge in his voice.

"For you?" Maximus said, "I'm no lawyer, but off the top of my head, I'd say conspiracy to commit murder and, since you're a resident of Duloc, at least peripherally, I'd add treason. The same would go for your furry friend," he nodded toward donkey, "and as for the 'Queen'," he looked over at Fiona, "Conspiracy would just be the start of the crimes. But again, I'm no lawyer."

Donkey suddenly spoke up. "Speakin' of lawyers, ain't we entitled to one?"

"Hummm," Maximus mused, "a fascinating concept. I'm sure that's one of the laws that the 'queen' would have changed if given a little more time to wreck further havoc with Dulocian law."

Fiona stepped forward to the bars and looked directly into Maxiums's face. "And just what 'havoc' have I wrought so far?" she demanded.

Maximus sighed. "Your edict concerning the fairy tale folk, for one. I'm afraid you really gave yourself away, 'Your Majesty'. Surely, this was just the beginning of the end of Dulocian society. Fortunately, Captain Gledius was able to see it all coming. Your edict only confirmed his suspicions."

Fiona frowned. "All my edict did was free them from unlawful imprisonment –"

"But it is not unlawful if they were imprisoned by order of law!" Maximus objected.

Fiona shook her head. "That's circular argument, Lieutenant. By that reasoning, what I did was lawful as I was functioning as Duloc's lawful ruler."

"But not if you assumed that position by unlawful means," Maximus said, then smiled smugly. "Captain Gledius explained it all to me."

"Did he?" Fiona said sarcastically. "Then tell me, Lieutenant, if he explained to you about the law, did he also explain to you about JUSTICE?"

Maximus squinted. "I don't understand."

"Do you believe it was JUST to imprison all those fairy tale folk when they had done nothing wrong? When their only crime was just being different?" she asked simply.

Maximus allowed himself to think for a moment, then quickly shook his head. "My job is not to think about such things. My job is to –"

"Carry out orders?" Fiona finished for him.

"Well, yes, actually," he conceded.

Fiona shook her head. "Do you know how much evil has been done in this world by soldiers for whom that was their only concern?"

"My concern," Maximus retorted indignantly, "is to serve Duloc!"

"That was MY concern, also!" Fiona objected. "That is why I STAYED here after the wedding and – and what happened after, instead of flying away on the dragon."

"NO!" Maximus said, "That was all a trick! It was all planned! You're some sort of sorceress, and you schemed to lure Farquaad into marrying you so that you could kill him and inherit the crown, then loose your fairy tale fiends to infiltrate Duloc, pollute our society, and turn it into your own magic kingdom!"

Fiona sighed. "Lieutenant, if I have the power you seem to think I have, and I am as devious as you seem to think I am, why on EARTH would I have intentionally changed into an ogress when I did? Would I not have bided my time, and retained my human form, until a more opportune moment? THINK, Lieutenant! You seemed to me an honorable man when I first met you. There is indeed a deceiver in Duloc, and a would-be usurper, I believe, but that person is not I."

"You – you're – you're trying to confuse me!" Maximus stammered, confused. "You're just trying to spread innuendo, to turn we humans against each other, so that you may pursue your own INhuman plans!"

Fiona sighed again, and shook her head. "Lieutenant Maximus," she said softly, "when I was a human – that is, when I believed I was MEANT to be human, but was changed into this form at night, I looked upon my ogre-self with the same eyes that you now look upon me, and with the same notions you apparently hold. Surely, I thought, such ugliness was a manifestation of something bad, maybe even of something EVIL, but at the LEAST something to be avoided, to be shied away from, and preferably locked away. The physical appearances of creatures such as ogres, I thought, were a mark from God so as to separate the 'good' from the 'bad', the desirable from the degenerate. Inward goodness and purity, I believed, were mirrored by exterior beauty and grace, like in the fairy tales. As for myself, I thought there was NO WAY I was REALLY an ogress. It was just the result of a witch's curse – herself another of God's 'bad' creatures. I was REALLY human. REAL ogres were big, stupid, ugly brutes. I might LOOK like one, but there was no way I WAS one – not inside. Well, since then, after I met a REAL ogre, I realized that maybe ogres weren't perhaps ideal guests to invite to stuffy embassy balls, but they weren't BAD, just different. And true beauty is in the mind, not just the eye, of the beholder. The heart, after all, is on the INSIDE. There's good and bad in all of us, Lieutenant., whether ogre or human, or any other sentient being, and we all have the ability to choose between the two. I was a fool to think God so shallow. The world He has created is much more diverse, and its inhabitants more magnificently complex, than I was giving Him credit for. You believe in God, don't you, Lieutenant?"

"Of COURSE!" Maximus replied curtly.

"Then please, use the brain – and heart – He gave you. Think about all the things that happened this night. Think of EVERYTHING. See if you can't figure out who the true deceiver is, and what justice demands. There IS right and wrong here, Lieutenant. Please make sure that you're on the right side. Do your duty to Duloc, and to God."

Maximus paused, apparently in thought, for several seconds. Then his countenance hardened and he approached Fiona and glared at her through the bars. "You're quite right," he said, "there IS a deceiver here, one whose honeyed words and specious arguments can tempt the righteous to follow him into hell just like those deluded angels cast with him from heaven!" He leaned forward until his face was mere inches from hers, then spat out reproachfully, "Get thee behind me, Satan!" He then whirled away from her and marched out of the room, the other soldiers following obediently. Only the jailkeep remained. He looked at the prisoners, gave a short chortle, and then settled in behind a small worn desk, propped his feet up, pulled out a magazine – "Meadow and Moat" was its title, with smaller letters beneath that read "A Publication of the Provincial Longbow Association" – and started reading.

Donkey sighed. "Why can't we all just get along?" he asked no one in particular. He received no answer.

Fiona's shoulders sagged and her head plopped against the bars in defeat. Shrek came over and patted her gently on one shoulder. "It's okay," he said softly, "ye tried. Ye spoke well … an' true."

Fiona shook her head resignedly, then muttered, "Blasted humans."

* * *

Goldilocks moved a few more yards through the woods, back-tracking in the moonlight down the narrow dirt road that the soldiers had taken to bring her from Duloc to the witch's place. The darkness and creepy woodlands sounds frightened her, as did the thought of what the witch might do if she caught her with her borrowed broom, but the small girl was determined. If nobody else would help Queen Fiona, well, SHE would. She had no idea HOW yet, but she would think of something when she got there. And then the queen and her boyfriend would be safe, would wed, and would live happily ever after. After all, that's how things worked out in her storybooks.

Goldilocks stopped and let out a long yawn. It was WAY past her bedtime now. She hoped that her mother wouldn't be too mad at her for disobeying her and going for an adventure in the woods – again – but surely she would understand when everything turned out well in Duloc.

The lack of sleep wasn't the only thing tiring the young girl. Her legs were also weary. And there was still a long way to go. She decided that now was as good a time as any to try out the broom. She tried placing it under her in the position that she had seen witches ride them, then called "GO!" Nothing happened. She called "AWAY!" Nothing. She sighed resignedly, but then had another idea. She laid the broom flat on the ground, stood beside it, held out one arm parallel to the ground with the palm of her hand facing down toward the broomstick, then commanded "UP!" Nothing. "UP!" she said again, more forcefully and less patiently. Still nothing, not even a tremor.

Goldilocks gave a frustrated grunt, then reached down and snatched up the broom. "I'll figure you out yet!" she promised as she trekked down the path toward Duloc again, dragging the broom beside her.


	12. Chapter 10: What Do You Propose?

Chapter 10: What Do You Propose?

Within a couple of minutes of the soldiers' departure, the jailkeep started snoring deeply, the open magazine on his chest, his arms dangling by his sides, and his head laying back at what looked to be a very uncomfortable angle. With every great outrush of breath his moustache flew upwards with the breeze.

In the cell, Shrek stood, holding a despondent Fiona in his arms, her head resting on his chest. They both looked up lackadaisically when the snoring began and then over at its source. Shrek gave a short derisive snort, and to his side Donkey commented sarcastically, "Well, there ya go, Duloc's finest!"

Then, from behind them, Shrek heard another sound. A metallic scratching sound. Fiona apparently heard it, too, as they both turned their heads together toward the back wall of the cell. Hood was standing on one of the cell's two cots, reaching into its one small recessed window. There were two bars set in the yard-deep opening, older and thinner than the ones at the front of the cell, and Hood was sawing at the base of one of them with a small file. He was timing his activity so that he only sawed when the jailkeep released one of his great snores, so as to disguise the file's sound. Fortunately, these were long, frequent, and loud.

Shrek released Fiona and the two ogres approached the bandit. "Where the blazes did ye get THAT?" Shrek whispered.

"Didn't they search you before they locked you up?" Fiona added.

"Mai oui," Hood whispered back.

"Then how…" she said.

Hood paused and looked back at her. Then he smiled and gestured over to a small tray sitting in a corner of the cell. It held what were apparently the remains of Hood's dinner that evening, including the torn-apart remnants of a loaf-shaped muffin. Hood said, "It zeems, Mon Cherie, zat zee person who provides food to zee prisoners is one of my many sympathizers, or at least a sympathizer against zee tyrant who ruled zis place."

"But who?" she asked. "Who is it? Do you know?"

Hood nodded back to the tray and then, as he turned back to his work, said softly, "Zee muffin man."

"The muffin man?" Fiona asked.

"Zee muffin man," he repeated.

Fiona frowned and turned to Shrek. "Do YOU know the muffin man?"

"No," Shrek answered crisply, then took a step forward and leaned over Hood's shoulder – not needing the height of the cot to do so – and watched as the thief worked. It seemed that the robber had already managed to cut all the way through the bottom of one of the bars earlier in the evening, and was now most of the way through the other.

"Wait a minute," Fiona said to Hood, "you just said MON cherie – just like in the woods."

Hood paused in his work as he and Shrek looked back at her. She was standing there, hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised as she stared at the bandit with a look like a school marm who had caught a student cheating.

"I'm zorry," Hood said, glancing quickly to Shrek, "I ded not mean anything by eet –"

"You had the gender form wrong!" she declared, "It should have been feminine – it should have been 'MA cherie'!"

Hood bit his lip, looking a bit worried, but Shrek just shook his head. "So?" he asked her, "'MON', 'MA', what's the big deal?"

"That's just it!" she said, "It WOULDN'T be a big deal to you or me. But it would to a FRENCHMAN. It would be second nature to him. That is …" here she crossed her arms and looked at Hood accusatorily as she continued, "IF the person using the word were really FRENCH."

Shrek looked over at Hood and cocked an eyebrow. "Ain't ye really French?" he asked.

"Well … I … er …" Hood stammered, smiling nervously. Then he heaved a great sigh and said, now in an obvious English accent, "Oh, bloody blazes. NO, I'm not."

Shrek's eyes opened wide in surprise, but then quickly narrowed. "Then why the pretense?"

"Well, old boy, if you MUST know," the robber responded, continuing in the English dialect that sounded much more natural for him, "the French accent tends to arouse the ladies' – shall we say, 'romantic' impulses – more than the proper English voice. Although why the damsels prefer frog-speak is, frankly beyond me."

"Waitaminute," Donkey chimed in, "didn't I hear somewhere that you already had your OWN lady … whatsername … uh –"

"Marion," Shrek concluded for him. "Yeah. Maid Marion. I read about that, too. What about HER?"

"That's just it, old chap," Hood responded, "she insists on remaining a MAID, unless we first go through the 'MARION' part, if you catch my drift. Eh, wot?" Hood smiled, winked, and poked Shrek mischievously in the tummy with his elbow, but the ogre frowned and looked back at him disapprovingly. Then the bandit heard a low, deep-throated growl to his side. He slowly looked over to see Fiona still standing there, her arms still crossed, but now glaring at him with an expression that made Shrek's disapproving gaze look absolutely benevolent.

Meanwhile, Donkey stood by, staring off into space with one eyebrow cocked and a perplexed expression on his face, "'Marion'?" he repeated to himself, still trying to figure out the allusion.

"Uh, well, back to work!" Hood laughed nervously. He quickly turned and started filing again with renewed energy, but not as carefully. After a few seconds, when he was nearly through the bottom bar, he fumbled the file. He tried to grab it but missed. Then from the darkness outside they heard it clatter against stones, then clatter against metal, then the clattering ceased altogether.

The robber slowly turned to see Shrek's frowning visage fill his view. Hood stammered, "Uh … oops?" and smiled a forced little smile.

"Oh, for the love of Pete!" Shrek growled, "Get outta the way!" Hood lept off of the cot as Shrek moved over, reached into the little window, and grabbed the first bar, the one that Hood had cut all the way through. The ogre gave a great groan as he pulled back on it. At first there was nothing, but then after a few seconds dust and then small fragments of stone started trickling down from where the top of the bar was still encased in the window frame, and then suddenly it pulled free. "Gotcha!" Shrek said ebulliently. He nearly tossed it aside, then a particularly loud snore from the jailkeep reminded him of the situation, and he laid the bar down on the cot.

Shrek reached back into the window and took hold of the one remaining bar, the one not quite cut all the way through. He pulled and tugged, but the thing refused to budge. Then Shrek heard the frame of the cot groan as a new weight was added to it – a considerable weight. He looked over and found himself staring into Fiona's deep blue eyes.

"Need some help?" she asked, smiling, and without waiting for an answer reached in with her left hand and grasped the bar just above where Shrek was holding it with his right. Suddenly one of the legs of the cot gave a little, and the cot shuttered, nearly collapsing. Fiona gave a short, low shriek as she fell against Shrek, and each instinctively threw their free arm around the back of the other to steady her position. The cot held, but so did the ogres, pressed against each other and holding each other tightly, the height of the cot bringing Fiona to eye level with Shrek. They looked into each other's faces again, just inches apart … and just continued staring for a few seconds.

Eventually Shrek nodded toward the window. "Let's do it," he said.

"Glad to," Fiona responded, a coy smile playing at the side of her mouth.

The two ogres then both turned toward the window and started pulling and prying at the remaining bar. After about a minute the bottom of the bar broke where Hood had been filing it. A short while later the top of the bar yielded to their combined strength as well, and the ogres ripped it from its mooring.

The ogres found themselves staring at each other again. They still held each other tight, despite the now dislodged bar that they held by their sides. Each was breathing heavily, partly out of the great effort they had expended, and partly from their proximity to each other.

"Amazing what we can do together, huh?" Fiona asked.

"You bet," Shrek replied. The ogres continued to stare at each other, at first smiling, but then the smiles faded, replaced by expressions reflecting feelings more deep and urgent. Their faces started moving toward each other like magnets drawn to steel. Their lips parted, and then –

"Uh, EXCUSE me!" Donkey said impatiently, "Hey, is that an open window I see? By golly, I think it is! I gotta idea! Let's all go THROUGH the window to the OTHER side, an' THEN we can all take care'a whatever 'business' we need ta. Whaddya say?"

The moment once again ruined, the two ogres leaned back away from each other, Shrek giving a deep grumble in his throat, Fiona smiling ruefully at Shrek's expression. "Donkey," Shrek said, "pretty soon you an' me are gonna have a talk."

"Yeah, yeah, later," Donkey said, "but right now, let's skedattle."

"Fine," Shrek said, then to Hood, "okay, 'Monsieur', get your derriere up here."

"Moi?" Hood said in surprise, then, "I mean – me?"

"Hey, yeah," Donkey said, also surprised, "I mean – aren't you gonna let the princess go first?"

"Wish I could," Shrek said, then gestured back to the window, "but take another look at that openin'. He's the only one here with the right shape to fit through it. Unless …" Shrek turned back to Fiona. "Is there any way at all ye can … change back?"

Fiona looked into his large brown eyes, seeing a faint glint of forlorn hope there. "You'd rather I'd be human and free on the outside, with you here left to … whatever fate they have in mind for you? Even if we never saw each other again?"

"Of course!" Shrek said, as if the answer were self-evident. "I mean – I'd LOVE to stay by ye every minute of the day if I could, but – but if changin' back would mean you'd be safe …"

Fiona nodded understanding, smiled a sad smile and laid a hand beside his cheek. "Sorry," she said, "as far as I know, you're stuck with me just the way I am."

Shrek returned the sad smile and laid his hand tenderly over hers. "Under other circumstances, you can't imagine how happy that'd make me," he said. Then Shrek moved her hand to his mouth, kissed it, and with a reluctant sigh let it drop and turned back to the robber, his expression quickly hardening. "Okay, you, let's go."

But Hood stared at him and Fiona in surprise a bit longer, then said, "You – you pried open the bars – knowing that you could not escape yourselves – only to allow me to go? Why?"

"Don't read anything mushy into it," Shrek retorted as Fiona innocuously stepped down from the cot, "I did it 'cause you're more irritatin' to have around than the donkey."

Donkey cast a glare of rebuke at Shrek and Fiona giggled.

"There is ONE thing I need from ye," Shrek said as Hood mounted the cot.

"What's that?" the robber asked suspiciously.

"Toss that file back in here when ye get out."

"Ah!" Hood said, "Consider it done!" Then, casting a skeptical eye back at the thick bars at the front of the cell, he added, "However, I doubt that it will do much good against those things. Not unless you have a week to file through them. Even the daft blokes that run this place would likely notice something before then."

"That'll be OUR problem," Shrek said, leaning down and cupping his hands to give Hood a footrest. "Now get goin'."

"Good chap!" Hood said buoyantly, then used Shrek's footrest to push himself into the window opening. Confirming Shrek's suspicions, even the relatively thin Englishman had trouble struggling through the three-foot long and considerably less wide orifice. Some of the things Hood muttered during his efforts made Shrek wonder if the man had been a sailor at some point before he took up robbery. The ogre glanced over at Fiona during one particularly expressive string of comments and saw her looking innocently away, trying unsuccessfully to hide the effort she was making not to smile. Despite everything, Shrek couldn't help but chuckle.

But Shrek's chuckle ended when Hood suddenly became stuck, his head and shoulders apparently outside the window on the far side, but his legs, kicking futilely, still sticking out the window on Shrek's side. "Oh, good grief!" Shrek grumbled, and started pushing on Hood's feet as the robber tried to pull himself free.

Fiona folded her arms and leaned back against a wall of the cell as she watched the struggle. Feeling uncomfortable at the lapse in general conversation, Donkey wandered beside her and began speaking. "Ya know, Princess, this – uh, or should I say 'Queen' now?"

"Princess is fine, Donkey," Fiona replied glumly, "I haven't been doing so hot as a queen anyway."

"Yeah, well, anyhow," Donkey continued, "this reminds me of a story one of my cousins once told me about how he and some other guys helped this little bear that got stuck in this rabbit hole. He was a pretty gloomy fella, not much fun to be around, really – my cousin, that is, not the bear. The bear was – well, he was nice enough, but not exactly the brightest star in the sky. One day, he –"

"Gotcha!" Shrek exclaimed as Hood suddenly popped all the way out the window. The small group in the cell heard a thump and muffled grunts from outside as Hood hit the ground. Shrek leaned toward the window and whispered, "Can ye find the file?"

After a few moments, Hood said, "Oh. Grate."

"What's wrong?" Shrek whispered.

"Just what I said, old bean," Hood whispered back, "there's a grate down here. It appears the file fell though it. I don't see how –"

"HALT! WHO GOES THERE!" a voice suddenly called from outside somewhere, apparently several yards from where Hood stood.

"Oh-oh," Hood said, "I'm afraid I have to run! Adieu, mon amis!" With that, the robber took off running, followed a few seconds later by two other men who by the sound of jangling armor were soldiers. The soldiers, intent on following their quarry, apparently had overlooked the open window. Not that it did the three inside the cell any good. The small portal remained mockingly barless yet impassible.

"That's MES amis, you fraudulent 'Frenchman,'" Fiona muttered to no one in particular.

"How's that?" Donkey said.

"Nothing," Fiona sighed, "nothing that matters at all."

"I wonder if they'll catch him," Donkey pondered.

Fiona shrugged. "As long as they put him in another cell, who cares? 'She insists on remaining a MAID.' Yeah, very funny."

"Well, I guess some guys just aren't the 'Marion' type, huh?" Shrek said, and smiled impishly. But the curious, raised-eyebrow look Fiona gave him at the remark – he wasn't sure what it meant exactly, but it somehow made him feel very uncomfortable. "What?" he asked.

Fiona smiled sadly then just shook her head. "Nothing," she said, then paused to look around the cell and the snoring jailkeep outside. "Well," she said, "what do you propose we do now?"

"Now –" Shrek began, but was interrupted as he had to give a great yawn. "Now, we'd better get some shut-eye. We'll be able to think clearer in the morn'. I don't know about you, but I didn't get much sleep LAST night, either."

Fiona thought back to the night before. The long, sleepless night she had spent alone in the windmill following her heart-to-heart with Donkey. The long mental and emotional struggle as she agonized over her curse, her impending wedding to Farquaad, her unexpected feelings toward Shrek, and what that it all meant and where her destiny – and her heart – REALLY lie. Eventually she had ended up plucking the pedals off a sunflower, she told herself, to determine if she should reveal the secret of her nocturnal ogress form to Shrek. 'I tell him, I tell him not', she had chanted with each plucked pedal. It had ended on an 'I tell him'. But she realized now that if that last pedal had been a 'tell him not', she would have ripped the very bulb off the stem to have the exercise end with an 'I tell him'." What was it they said about flipping a coin to decide something? As soon as you flip it, you may as well not bother to look at the result, for as it twists in the air you realize which side you are rooting for to win.

"Fiona?" Shrek said, his voice tinged with concern, "are ye alright?"

Fiona blinked, forcing herself back to the here and now. "I'm fine," she said, smiling reassuringly, "I … didn't get much sleep last night, either."

"Well," Shrek said, gesturing to the two cots, "take ye choice. I'll take the other."

Fiona shrugged. "They looked like a matched set to me," she said, then with a coy smile, added, "which seems rather appropriate."

Shrek smiled back as Fiona settled into one of the cots, which was a bit small for her frame. "I'm afraid it won't be very comfortable," Shrek said as he spread the worn blanket over her as best he could.

"That's okay," she said, "I'll be a lot more comfortable here than I would have sharing Farquaad's bed with him, however big and cushy it was. Trust me."

Shrek leaned down and give Fiona a kiss – one that lasted several seconds. During the kiss Fiona reached up, meaning to pull Shrek closer to her – then thought better of it and pulled her arm back. A moment later, Shrek reluctantly broke the kiss. "Good night," he said softly. "Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

Fiona slapped at something on her wrist, then replied, "I'll do my best."

Shrek started to get into the other cot and Donkey said, "Oh, so Donkey automatically settles for the floor, huh?" Shrek cast a reproachful glare at him and Donkey quickly added, "Uh, not that I'm COMPLAININ' mind you! After all, I AM an animal, and I've had to settle for worse, y'know –"

"Good night, Donkey," Shrek said, and laid down in the cot, turning onto his side with his face toward the cell wall. His legs dangled off the cot and the blanket covered him only from his shoulders to his knees.

Donkey started to lie down, then noticed the tray with the remains of Hood's dinner. "Uh, y'all mind if I finish this food up?" Donkey asked, "There's only a few bites, but if ya wanna share –"

"Ye go ahead, Donkey," Shrek said over his shoulder, and added indignantly "ogres don't eat scraps."

"Well, to each their own," Donkey said, and started sniffing at the remains of the muffin.

"But speakin' of food, let me know if ye see any rats or slugs 'round the cell," Shrek said.

"Oh, please!" Fiona moaned from her cot, "Stop talking about things like that. I'm ALREADY famished!"

* * *

Shrek slowly awoke to an urgent shaking of his arm. "Shrek!" he heard Fiona's voice as if from the end of a tunnel, "Shrek, wake up!"

Shrek rolled over onto his back and reluctantly forced one sleep-weary eye open. Fiona was leaning over him, a look in her face not of fear but of – anticipation of some sort. "What is it?" he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing's WRONG exactly, but ... well, it's almost dawn!"

Shrek took a few moments to look about him. The jailkeep was still snoozing in his chair and Donkey, now on his back, as still asleep on the cell floor, a small stream of spittle trailing from the corner of his mouth. The two of them seemed to be having a contest to see who could snore the loudest. Shrek looked over to the window and indeed saw the dull, dusky light that indicated that dawn would soon break. Not that Shrek had seen many dawns. He liked to sleep in late, and being awakened this early, especially after such a short night's rest, did not help his temper. He looked up at Fiona who, despite her somewhat crumpled dress and hair that had been undone and now hung free across her shoulders, appeared wide awake. "Good God, woman," Shrek said, "don't ye EVER sleep?" He then readjusted his blanket as best he could and closed his eyes again. After only a few seconds he was well on his way back to sleep.

Fiona leaned closer over his supine form, placed one hand on either of his shoulders, and shook him violently. "WAKE UP!" she shouted.

Shrek's eyes flew open at the sudden jostling. He looked up at Fiona and asked irritably, "WHAT?"

"I ... said ... it's ... almost ... DAWN," she repeated, slowly and emphasizing each word, as if she were speaking to an idiot.

"I ... heard ... you ... the ... FIRST ... time," Shrek responded, mimicking her style, then more normally, "So what's the big deal, Fi?"

"The big deal," Fiona began, "is that –" Then she paused briefly, digesting his question, then repeated, "FI?"

"Well, yeah," Shrek said, "Don't tell me none'a your friends never called ye 'Fi' b'fore."

"No, actually," Fiona replied, a little sheepishly. "I mean… well, from what I can remember from my youth, things were pretty formal in the castle, and I didn't have a lot of 'friends' – just courtiers and other associates. It was all very … proper."

"Oh," Shrek said. "Sorry. Uh… so ye'd rather I not call ye 'Fi,' then?"

"No, I didn't say THAT," Fiona corrected. "In fact … well, I kinda like it. But … what would I call YOU? I mean, what's short for 'Shrek'?"

"'Shrek' IS short," Shrek said.

Fiona's eyebrows furrowed. "Short for what?"

A sour expression came across Shrek's face, as if he were sorry he'd brought it up. "Never mind," he said.

"Oh, come on!" Fiona urged, "I've GOTTA know now!"

Shrek's jaw worked for a few seconds as he ground his teeth, a low grumbling sound escaping from between his lips. But despite his gestures of discomfort Fiona continued to stare at him expectantly. "WELL?" she eventually said in a partially playful, partially demanding tone.

Shrek looked up at her for a moment, then intentionally shifted his gaze away and replied, in a voice barely above a whisper, "Shreklecheh."

"What?" Fiona said, not quite sure if Shrek had replied to her question or uttered an oath.

"Shreklecheh," he repeated, a bit more loudly but with apparent distaste.

"Shrek-lech-eh?" Fiona repeated the name slowly, focusing on each syllable.

"Right," Shrek confirmed reluctantly.

"So your full name is Shreklecheh Zach?" Fiona asked, a smile creeping into one corner of her mouth.

"Yes," Shrek replied crisply.

Fiona's smile broadened to encompass her entire face, and she asked, "But you'd prefer I'd just call you 'Shrek'?"

"Much," Shrek said. Then, anxious to change the subject, he asked, "But anyway, why're ye in such an all-fired hurry to get up this morn'?"

Fiona paused, then started explaining, almost apologetically, "Well, it's ... it's the first dawn since the spell was broken last night and ... well ..."

Shrek's eyes narrowed. "You're not sure if it was really broke?"

"Well, not exactly. I mean, I ASSUME it was, but ... it's just that, it's going to be a special moment and ... well, I just wanted to share it ... with you." She then looked away shyly and blushed a bit.

Shrek's features softened. He got up from the bed and took the suddenly embarrassed Fiona in his arms. He held her tightly, resting her head against his chest. "I'd be honored," he said.

Fiona looked up at him and smiled. She took his hand in hers and together the two ogres took the few steps so that they were in front of the window, which fortunately faced eastward. They could see past the town square with low buildings at the far end, and over the buildings were the progressively glowing yellow and pink clouds that announced the impending dawn. So intent were they on the sight that they didn't even notice Donkey, now caught up in some nightmare, start stammering in his sleep, "No, Judge, please! Not the dip! NOT THE DIP!"

Then suddenly the top of the sun broke over the horizon of the far buildings. As the first rays of bright sunlight surged through the small window, Fiona instinctively raised her hand to shield her face, as she had done so many times before. But this time, as she stared at her large, shielding hand, she did not see an aura of glittering light appear around it, did not see it lighten in color or diminish in size, did not feel the pain as her entire being was forcibly rearranged and compressed into human form. No, none of that happened this time. This time she stayed as she was. She dropped her shielding hand and brought the other up beside it, then stared down at them in unbelieving wonder. Then her eyes ran across the front of her body as she saw a sight she had never seen – direct sunlight reflecting off of her ogress form. "This … is … ME," she said softly to herself, forgetting for a moment that Shrek was standing beside her. Then suddenly she remembered, and looked up at him. He was staring down at her, concern in his eyes. She offered him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, but one that contained some bittersweetness nonetheless. "I guess that confirms it," she said, taking his arm with one hand, "you're stuck with me like this."

"An' how de ye feel about that, Fi?" he asked.

A pensive expression came over her face. She looked away from him and out the window at the rising disk of the sun, which was just about to clear the horizon completely. Somewhere in the distance a rooster crowed. A few moments later, she replied to his question. "I feel … whole."

Just then a soft wind kicked up and blew through the open window. Its warmth struck Fiona's face and she closed her eyes, allowing the breeze to envelop her. Shrek looked down at her, marveled at the attractive features of her round yet appealing face with features paradoxically both firm and soft, with lips that stood slightly parted and to which he felt instinctively drawn. The gust tossed her long loose hair about, almost symbolic of her ethereal spirit. And now, she belonged to him. How had this miracle happened?

The words – low, soft, almost a whisper in the wind – were out of Shrek's mouth before he had realized he had spoken them. "Fiona, would ye marry me?"

Fiona opened her eyes and looked up at him. The expression in her face was a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. "What did you say?" she asked tentatively.

Shrek paused, then replied, "Uh … nothin'."

Fiona's eyebrows furrowed again. "Yes you did," she said.

"No," Shrek replied sheepishly, "I didn't. It was – uh, just the wind."

"No, it wasn't the wind," she responded, a little impatiently, "You said something."

"No, it wasn't me," he insisted.

"Well, it wasn't Donkey!" Fiona said, throwing a frustrated gesture toward Donkey, who let out a particularly loud snore at that moment as if in response to hearing his name, "You said … something!"

"No, I didn't!" Shrek insisted, starting to loose patience himself at the grilling.

"Yes, you did!" Fiona repeated, flustered, "It sounded like you asked … you asked … "

"Asked what?!" Shrek demanded.

"You asked if I'd marry you!" Fiona nearly shouted.

"And what if I did?!"

"WELL, DID YOU?!"

"Well, MAYBE …"

"DID YOU OR DIDN'T YOU?"

"OKAY, BLAST IT, YES!"

"YES, WHAT?"

"YES, I ASKED IF YOU'D MARRY ME!"

"OKAY!"

"OKAY, WHAT?"

"OKAY, YES, I'LL MARRY YOU!"

"WELL, THAT'S GREAT!"

"GOOD!"

"FINE!"

By this time the two ogres were yelling at each other at the top of their lungs as their argument had become progressively louder and more animated. Now, realizing where it had landed, they both suddenly stopped and stared at each other, panting with the effort of the squabble, their eyes wide with the implications of what they had just said. Then, with equal suddenness, they threw themselves into each other's arms and shared a long, hard, and passionate kiss.

Meanwhile, Donkey, his sleep broken by the rising volume of the proposal, blinked, yawned, and started looking around. "Hey, what's goin' on?" he mumbled, "What's all the fuss abou–" Then he saw the two ogres again locked in an embrace. "Oh, jeez," he said, somewhat annoyed, "why don't you two just find a room?" A moment later, he added, "Somethin' WITHOUT see-though walls," and kicked one of the metallic bars of the cell with a rear hoof.

The clang of Donkey's hoof against the cell bar caused the jailkeep, whose slumber had been growing progressively restless during the ogres' exchange, to finally stir in his sleep. Suddenly the chair which was already leaning back precariously gave way and fell all the way backwards, dumping the jailkeep in an indignant heap onto the floor in mid-snore. He awoke with a start and grumbling several indistinct curses, then he looked at the cell and froze. He wiped his sleep-filled eyes and looked again, and an expression of horror came into his face when he beheld the bar-less window – and realized one of the occupants was missing. "Great Lord!" he stammered, and quickly headed out of the room.

Just then the ogres separated, and Fiona sighed, blushed, smiled, then said, "We plan to 'get a room', Donkey. A wedding suite."

"Huh?" Donkey said, cocking one eyebrow in confusion.

"We're getting MARRIED, Donkey," Fiona explained.

"Oh," Donkey said matter-of-factly, then a moment later when he registered what she had said, his features brightened and he added enthusiastically, "O-O-O-H! Well, it's about TIME this big lummox got around ta askin' ya! I guess I should say congratulations on your … impendin' nuptials."

"Yeah, thanks," Shrek said, then less happily, "course, first we gotta figure a way outta our current mess."

"Oh, we will," Fiona said, her voice buoyant and face radiant.

"How ye figure?" Shrek asked, "Ye gotta plan?"

"No, not yet" Fiona replied, "but something's bound to turn up. It's destiny!"

Shrek looked at the beaming face of his new fiancee and saw, behind the expression of confident hope, a tinge of uncertainty bourn by the two days of world-wisdom she had acquired so quickly since the last time she had used that phrase. But then again, when she had used it before she was referring to the destiny that she and Shrek were meant to be together, and it turned out that she had been right after all. The ogre now hoped that she would be right again, and that her confidence wasn't just another misbegotten fantasy.


	13. Chapter 11: Awakenings

Chapter 11: Awakenings

Lieutenant Maximus awoke with the cawing of a rooster somewhere as day broke. His office was small, austere, and efficient. Once awake, he arose, made his small bed, and donned his uniform, all with steady precise motions learned by routine that no longer required concentration – which was just as well, as other thoughts were occupying his mind this morning. Some of the thoughts he would just as soon not have, as they troubled him. But they kept intruding nonetheless. They were temporarily wiped away, however, when he stepped out into the morning air and beheld the jailkeep rushing toward him from down the street with harried and uneven strides, one hand holding his helmet upon his head.

The jailkeep eventually reached Maximus, but was so out of breath when he did so he could only stand there, his face dangerously red, gasping for breath. He stared at the Lieutenant with wide-open eyes, his mouth working madly as it was obvious he desperately wanted to report something, but only incomprehensible wheezes came out.

Maximus tried to maintain sympathy and patience for the obviously distressed jailkeep, he really did. But as the man's inarticulate huffing and puffing continued, joined with many desperate but useless gestures, the Lieutenant found that patience wearing thinner and thinner until he finally blurted, "FOR HEAVEN'S SAKES, MAN, SPIT IT OUT!"

That startled the jailkeep, who froze in mid-gasp. He then took a great swallow and spoke with a voice still out of breath but just comprehensible, "The jail, sir … the ogres … must'a cast a … a sleepin' spell on me … an escape …"

"The ogres have escaped!" Maximus gasped himself. A moment he later started taking long strides toward the jail. "Come on!" he ordered the jailkeep as he passed the man, who was now half-kneeling with his hands resting heavily on his knees.

"No, sir," the jailkeep huffed, "the … ogres didn't escape … Hood did … the others are … they're still there."

"HOOD did?" the Lieutenant repeated, whirling back toward the jailkeep, "but … then why would they cast …"

Maximus shook his head, turned back toward the jail and resumed his way towards it with strides still long but somehow less certain than before. Those troublesome thoughts suddenly returned again, joined now by new ones.

* * *

A pounding on the door awakened the snoring witch. Groggily, she reached over to her bedside table, slapped the snooze button on her clock, then immediately went back to sleep and began snoring again. The pounding resumed once more, louder, a moment later. The witch's snoring changed momentarily into an irritated snorting as she finally came awake and opened her eyes, then immediately shaded them from the early morning sun that poured through a nearby window. "What in the name'a Kim Novak –" she began, and then once again heard the pounding. Her eyes narrowed and she snarled, "Seems like SOMEBODY wants ta get a shot at the role of Frog Prince, again."

The witch threw the covers off and clumsily pushed herself out of bed. She was wearing a nightgown whose construction was exactly like the black robe she normally wore, only the nightgown was white with a floral pattern, mostly wolfbane. In place of her pointed hat the witch was wearing a floppy sleeping cap of the same pattern as her gown. Scratching her hip, she lumbered to the door. Another round of pounding began as she was halfway there, and the witch called, "Hold your frickin' horses, I'm coming, already!"

The witch reached the door and threw it open. Before her, in a simple commoner's dress, stood a frail woman in her fifties with graying hair and a worn, worried expression on her face. "Please!" the woman said when she saw the witch, "You've got to help me!"

The witch's eye narrowed again. "Hey, I recognize you!" she said, "You're that old woman that lives in that shoe."

"Yes, yes, that's me," the woman said, "and I'm afraid I've lost one of my children and … and I don't know what to do …"

"LOST one?" the witch echoes, "how did you manage that?"

"Well, I have so many children, sometimes I … oh, PLEASE. I was hoping maybe she was still here. I saw her come over to visit you last night. She's blond, and her name's Goldilocks."

"Oh, I remember HER," the witch said with a trace of disgust, "that kid of yours has quite a disrespectful little mouth on her."

The old woman bit her lip. "I'm very sorry about that, really," she said sincerely, "but I'm very worried. Is she possibly still here?"

"Nope," the witch said, "she left last night 'round midnight. While they were hitchin' that size 240 or whatever it is of yours up. I figured she headed back to be with you."

"Yes, I thought she was with us, too, but –" the woman said, then ran a trembling hand through her hair. "Now I don't – I don't –" The woman then sobbed a bit, and seemed on the verge of tears.

The witch sighed and her expression softened somewhat. "Oh, criminy, don't start bawlin' on me," she said. "C'mon in, we'll see if we can't find where your little urchin has gone to."

The woman brightened. "Can you DO that?" she asked excitedly, "Oh, I would be so grateful –"

"Cut the schmaltz, lady, I just wanna get back to bed. It's early for me and I need my beauty sleep," the witch retorted, turning from the door and heading into her kitchen, the old woman following meekly behind her.

The witch impatiently looked over the various magical paraphernalia she had sitting on the shelves and with an "aha!" reached into one of the shelves and pulled down a spherical object about ten inches in diameter and covered with a cloth. The witch pulled the cloth off to reveal a black bowling ball. "Oh," the witch said, perturbed, "rats!" She then placed the bowling ball back and tossed the cloth over it, scanned the shelves a few seconds longer and exclaimed, "Ah, THERE it is!" She then pulled down another ball about the same size, also with a cloth over it. The witch whisked the cloth away to reveal a shiny crystal ball.

"Oh, my!" the old woman gasped. "Will that help?"

"Can't hoit," the witch said, then went over to the table and laid the ball down in the center of it, then propped a napkin holder and the salt and pepper shakers around it to make sure it wouldn't roll away. "I really oughtta get a proper stand one day," she murmured, then sat in one of the chairs. The old woman, her eyes fixed on the translucent orb, sat down in another.

"Now then," the witch took a deep breath, then leaned over and gazed into the ball.

After a few seconds of watching the witch just stare into the ball, the old woman asked, "Aren't you going to say anything?"

The witch looked over at her, a somewhat annoyed at the interruption. "Like what?" she asked.

"I don't know," the woman replied, "some sort of incantation or something? Hocus pocus dominocus? Something like that?"

The witch rolled her eyes. "Amateurs," she mumbled to herself, then turned back to the woman. "Look, you wanna do this?"

"Well, no, I – "

"Then just keep quiet and let me do my thing!"

Cowed, the old woman shut her mouth tightly and gulped. The witch rolled her eyes once more, then took a deep breath and resumed staring into the crystal. After several seconds, the clear crystal started clouding up, and shortly its entire interior seemed filled with swirling smoke. Then the smoke cleared, and the women were treated to a 3-d image of Goldilocks lying in the woods, asleep.

"That's her! That's her!" the old woman cried, greatly relieved.

"No kidding, Sherlock," the witch replied under her breath.

"Where is she? How far?"

The witch stared into the ball at Goldilock's image a bit longer, then replied, "East. Not far from Duloc proper."

"She made it all that way?" the old woman asked. "How long will it take to reach her?"

"Oh, not long," the witch replied, "we can just hop on my –" At that point Goldilocks's figure rolled over in her sleep and the witch saw the broom laying beside her. The witch's eyes automatically darted to the spot beside the door where she kept her broom when not in use. The spot was barren.

The witch's shriek of anger filled the woods for many yards around the little gingerbread house.

* * *

Try as he might, Milquest could not sleep. The twin demons of fear and guilt played upon his conscious, a conscious that he had thought he had mastered long ago. But now his usually masterful ability to rationalize away such personal failings failed him. And so, as the sun rose, so did he. Dressing himself quickly and efficiently in his usual dapper, formal attire – he had not dressed in simple casual clothes for as long as he could remember – he set out to visit a place that he had not been to for some time except for official functions or for the ritual Sunday ceremonies which to him had become more contests to stay awake than a means to spiritual fulfillment.

The morning was quiet as he approached the church. The celebrations of the night before had died out -- those that had not been snuffed out by the witnessing of the dragon's capture. A few of the celebrants were still on the sides of the street where they now snored in inebriated slumber, some still clutching mostly empty bottles to their bosom. Milquest paused a few yards outside the church and looked up at the imposing edifice. The pale morning light shown into the empty windows. Milquest wondered how long it would take to replace the stained glass – and then wondered what differences there would be in the figures that were portrayed in them. He recalled those panes where Farquaad had ordered that his own image be represented, such as the one of him standing triumphantly over a slain dragon – a pane that the dragon had ironically broken herself after that great gust of wind or whatever it was had taken out nearly all the rest. Milquest now imagined such panes being replaced, but with Gledius's image replacing Farquaad's, and the mayor shivered. With a self-conscious sigh, he entered the church.

The mayor did not see anyone at first, but found even the apparently empty structure imposing both for its immensity which the emptiness only highlighted, and for the memories from the previous evening that hung heavy in every corner as well as upon his own mind. Milquest made his way to the bank of small confessional booths and slid into one. He found it uncomfortable, both for its dark crampedness and for other, non-physical reasons.

Before he had managed to wiggle into a more comfortable seating position Milquest was startled as a small, screened window slid open and he heard an elderly voice say, "What troubles you, my son?" The mayor recognized the voice as that of the old priest who ran the church, the one who had performed the wedding ceremony the previous night and had fearfully shrunk into a corner when Shrek burst through the doors.

"I – uh – " Milquest stammered, trying to remember the proper words, as if they were part of some magical spell that would ease his conscious. At last he thought he remembered the right ones, and said, "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

"What is this sin, my son?" the priest asked with an ostensibly concerned tone that Milquest the politician recognized as feigned sincerity. But did the sincerity of the priest really matter in situations like this? Milquest didn't think so. The sincerity that mattered now, he realized, was his own.

So what was the sin? Now Milquest had to think. What sin HAD he committed? Was self-doubt a sin? He doubted it. Milquest tried going over the seven deadly sins in his mind – those that he could recall – and although some made him uncomfortable – gluttony, for instance – it was not the flirtation with any of them that had driven him here. So what had? "I suppose, Father …" Milquest said haltingly, "that my sin is one of … omission."

Now it was the priest who hesitated. After a few seconds, Milquest heard him say, "Yes, my child, go on."

"I feel that I have failed in an important way, Father," Milquest said. "Failed both the people I am obliged to represent and … failed myself. No, more than that. I've failed a trust. I was given an example of heroism and was challenged to rise to meet it myself. And I failed. I failed miserably." Then a word sprang to his mind. He wasn't sure if it was one of the seven deadly sins, but it surely felt like it was. Milquest spat it out. "Cowardice! That's what I am, Father. A coward. I'm a pompous, over-inflated caricature of what I'm supposed to be. I … I suppose I always was. But the things that happened last night … well, it brought it all home."

There was a moment of uneasy quiet, and then the priest said hesitantly, "You're referring to the ogres and the occurrences here at the church?"

"Yes, here at the church, and … well, and afterwards. After years of living under the self-absorbed Farquaad and his feigned civic concerns, I bore witness to the actions of a person who, when thrust into his position, showed a pure heart and courageous mind. Then, when we were invaded by Gledius and his minions and time came to choose sides, I … I stood by like his obedient dog as he took her and her companion into custody."

There was another hesitation, then the priest asked, "If you had chosen to make a stand, could you have prevented her from being overcome?"

"Well, no, I suppose not," Milquest replied. Then he signed and added, "I don't delude myself that any actions I might have taken would have caused Gledius much concern. I would no doubt be sharing a cell with them right now, as well as sharing whatever their fate might be. But at least I would be feeling much better about myself right now, Father. And yet, when I think about marching over to Gledius and challenging right now … my cowardice still holds me back."

After a few moments the priest spoke, his almost ancient voice even softer than usual. "Your situation is … not unique, my son. I must also confess, there have been times over the years, when personal danger threatened, that I, too, have opted for the … safer path. And with due respect to the ogres, the example that I am obliged to emulate is a bit higher."

A wry smile appeared on Milquest's lips. "So what should my penitence be, Father?"

"Hummmm," the priest said. After several seconds, he replied. "Perhaps we should wait for a while. Things are bleak, but not yet black. Perhaps God Himself may yet provide a means for your penitence … and for mine."

* * *

"Hey, kid, you okay?"

Goldilocks stirred, moaned softly, and opened her eyes. It took her a moment to awaken and focus on the face looking down at her, the one that spoke those words. Then the face came into focus – the furry gray face of a wolf. And not just any wolf, but the one of lore, the "Big Bad" wolf that she had seen with the other fairy tale folk.

Goldilocks shrieked and tried scooting back away from the canine. She got about a yard when her back came up against a tree. Frightened, she fumbled for the broom, grabbed it with both hands, and held it out like a sword, its point aimed at the wolf. The wolf straightened up, took a step back and held his front paws up in a calm-down gesture. "Hey, kid, it's okay! I'm not gonna hurt ya!"

Something about the wolf's demeanor – so apparently sincere and non-threatening – did serve to quiet Goldilocks somewhat, but she continued to hold the broom at the ready as she eyed him warily. She also started to wonder why he was still wearing an old lady's pajamas and sleeping cap. "W-what do you want?" she asked nervously.

"Want? Nothing! I just saw you layin' there on the open ground and wanted to make sure you were okay! Jeez, just because you're a wolf, nobody TRUSTS you around here!"

"I'm sorry," Goldilocks said, "but – well, after what you did to Little Red Riding Hood's grandmother – eating her and all –"

Suddenly the wolf's voice did get a bit gruff as he protested, "Hey, I did NOT eat that little girl's grandmother! I knocked very nicely on her cottage door and when she saw me she freaked out and jumped out the window before I could get two words in. People have been retelling that story for years and adding all kinda mean, violent details to it. Blasted wolfophobic busy-bodies!"

"But – then what DID happen? And – why are you wearing the grandmother's clothes?" Goldilock asked.

The wolf sighed. "Okay, here's the REAL story. I live near where that grandma did, and I knew it was the day of the week when that Riding Hood kid would always come a-visiting with her basket of goodies. Man, what a great smell that was! When you got a snoot like this," the wolf said, tapping the side of his long snout, "you just can't ESCAPE a smell like that a-waftin' through the forest. Finally, I couldn't take it any more, I HAD to try one of those pastries to see if they tasted as good as they smelled! And I KNEW if I approached the kid directly that SHE'D freak out for sure. Then she'd run to the village and the idiots would be out with guns and stuff and – well, not a pretty sight. But I thought that I might be able to strike a deal with the grandma, maybe trade her some fresh pork for a couple of scones or something."

"Where would you get fresh pork?" Goldilocks asked.

"Never mind," the wolf said, waving off the question with a tad of discomfort, "that's another story. Anyway, the grandma acted just like I feared the girl would act. Go figure! So there I was, alone in her cottage, and I knew the little girl was on her way there with those great smelling treats. So, in a moment of weakness I got the bright idea to dress up in an extra pair of Granny's pajamas and try and fake out the kid into giving me her treats."

Goldilocks pursed her lips and squinted her eyes in an expression of dubiousness. "Did you REALLY think she'd believe you were her grandma?"

The wolf frowned and shrugged. "Okay, maybe it wasn't the best idea in the world. But I thought I'd give it a shot. You never know, sometimes little kids can be awfully gullible."

Goldilocks eyes widened with renewed fear and she tightened her hold on the broom.

"Oh, no!" the wolf said, "I didn't mean – I'm not trying to fake YOU out! I just saw you layin' there and wanted to make sure you were okay! Jeez, never mind, I'll just go."

The wolf shook his head in disgust, turned and started stomping off.

"No, wait!" Goldilocks called.

The wolf paused, looked back and cocked an inquisitive eyebrow.

"I'm sorry," Goldilocks said, reticent but still a bit wary, "it's just that – I'm alone, and scared and you're – well –"

The wolf sighed. "Yeah, I know," he said, then turned back completely, approached the girl, and reached down with a forepaw. "You need a lift?"

The girl paused a few seconds more, still holding the broom, but staring thoughtfully at the paw. "My!" she gasped, "What a big paw you have!"

"Hey, let's not go there, kid," the wolf said. "C'mon, take it. I won't bite ya!"

"All right," she said, still a bit wary, then she lowered the broom, let go of it with her right hand, and with that hand grabbed the wolf's paw. With a mild grunt he helped pull her to her feet.

"There!" the wolf said, letting go of the girl's hand and taking a stand with both paws resting on either of his hips, "See? I'm not so bad."

"But you're big!" the girl said, looking up at him.

The wolf shrugged. "Only relatively," he said. "Nothing compared to that grouchy ogre that tossed me outta his shack the other night."

"That's where I'm going!" Goldilocks exclaimed.

"Huh?" the wolf asked, missing the connection.

"The ogre! And the ogress! They've been arrested back in Duloc! They set us free, and now I'm going to try to help them!"

The wolf examined Goldilock's small frame. "YOU are?" he inquired, barely holding back a titter.

"Yes!" she said, then held the broomstick out, "with this!"

The wolf cocked a skeptical eyebrow, sucked in a breath to keep from laughing, and said, "Really? So, I guess you're going to clean up the town, is that it?" Here he did let out a little laugh, and quickly choked it off.

"No," Goldilocks said, lowering the broomstick as he cheeks flushed with anger. "This is a WITCH'S broomstick!"

The wolf's jaw dropped, and all traces of amusement left his features. "A WITCH'S broomstick?" he repeated.

Goldilocks nodded.

The wolf stroked the hairs on underside of his snout thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "You know, usually you gotta KILL a witch to get her broomstick. You're not – a witch slayer are you?"

"No," Goldilocks replied in surprise. "I didn't KILL her! I just – uh –"

The wolf smiled mischievously. "You STOLE it?"

Goldilocks fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment, then said, "I didn't STEAL it exactly. I just – I just BORROWED it for a while. Until after I help the ogres."

"Uh-huh," the wolf said with a hint of sarcasm. "You know, going around st–, er, BORROWING witch's brooms – it's really not a very healthy activity."

She shrugged. "I don't care," she said. "The ogress was nice to me. She set us free. Now I'm going to help her." Then she paused and looked down either direction of the path they stood beside. "Oh, my!" she said, "I'm afraid I lost my way. Which way is Duloc?"

The wolf lifted an arm and pointed it down the eastward direction of the path.

"Thank you," she said, then started walking down the path in the direction he indicated.

"Why don't you use the broomstick and fly?" the wolf asked after she had taken a few steps past him.

"I haven't exactly figured out how to make it work," she replied with a bit of embarrassment, then turned back towards him. "You wouldn't happen to know, would you?"

The wolf gave a short laugh, then said, "Sorry, kid, not my specialty. You – uh – sure you want to do this thing alone?"

"No," she said, "but – say, would you like to come with me?"

"ME?" the wolf asked.

"Sure! They freed YOU, too! We could –" the girl said, then noticed the look of fear in the wolf's eyes. "Oh. I guess it IS dangerous. We don't know what might happen back in Duloc. And I've got a witch mad at me. If you're afraid –"

"AFRAID?" the wolf shot back with forced bravado, "I'm not afraid of no witch!"

"So you'll come with me, then?" Goldilocks asked.

"Well – okay," he replied reluctantly, taking a few steps to stand beside her. "For a while, just to make sure nothing happens to YOU in these woods. They can be kinda spooky."

"Oh, good!" Goldilocks said.

The wolf sighed, forced a smile and offered a bent elbow. "To Duloc?" he asked.

"To Duloc!" Goldilocks echoed, taking the crook of this elbow in her hand. Then the two began down the brown dirt path.

"By the way," Goldilocks asked after they had traveled a few yards, "why are you STILL wearing the grandmother's clothes?"

The wolf shrugged. "I'm not really sure," he replied, "they feel – I don't know, just sorta comfortable, I guess."

"Oh, well," Goldilocks said, "it's not like there's anything WRONG with that."

* * *

Shrek, Fiona, and Donkey looked out through the bars of their cell out into the area where the jailkeep normally sat. But there was no jailkeep there now – it had been several minutes since he had run off. In fact, there was nobody else in sight.

"Hey, great!" Donkey said enthusiastically, "Now's our chance ta get away?"

"An' just how do you proposed we do that?" Shrek asked in a voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Whaddya mean, how? Jus' break down the cell door here!"

Shrek wandered over to the door and calmly asked, "Didja happen ta notice how thick these bars are?" As if to emphasize his question, Shrek flicked one of the bars. It left a heavy reverberating echo.

"Well, yeah, I know they're THICK," Donkey said, "but so're you!"

Shrek's eyes squinted as he looked down at Donkey. "Come again?" he asked, the hint of a threat in his voice.

"What I MEAN is, well, you know, you're the big mean green fightin' machine! Just try whammin' against the bars a couple times, you know, really put your shoulder into it, and see what gives!"

"I KNOW what'll 'give'," Shrek replied, "MY shoulder! No thanks, Donkey. We'll need ta thinka somethin' else." With that, Shrek walked back to his cot and sat down.

Donkey looked at Shrek, then over to the cell door, then back to Shrek. "Ain'tcha even gonna TRY?" he implored.

"NO," Shrek said with finality. "An ogre's gotta know his limitations."

"But –" Donkey began to stammer, and saw Shrek set his jaw even firmer. Donkey then moved his desperate gaze toward Fiona. "What'cho think, Princess?" he asked. "What we gonna do?"

Fiona fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment under Donkey's gaze. She then looked over at Shrek, and saw him looking back at her as well, his expression more one of curiosity than anything else – apparently he was waiting to see if she would back him up. She thought for a minute, sighed, then looked away from Shrek and toward the cell door. Then she started to take determined strides towards it.

"And what do ya think YOU'RE doing?" Shrek asked.

"I'm going to try to learn MY limitations," Fiona replied. She paused once she came within a couple of feet of the cell door. Then she closed her eyes, lowered her head, folded her hands in front of her, and began taking long deep breaths.

"And what do ya call THAT?" Shrek asked.

"Please!" Fiona said, not moving from her position, "I'm trying to clear my mind!"

"Oh," Shrek said, "too bad you can't be like Donkey here. That's no problem a'tall for him."

Donkey looked over at the ogre and his eyes narrowed and mouth pursed in confusion. "Was that some kinda insult?" he asked.

"Case closed," Shrek said with a mocking laugh.

"PLEASE!" Fiona repeated, and looked back crossly at her fiancé.

Shrek raised his hands defensively. "Sorry," he said, half serious.

Fiona shook her head slightly and resumed her position. She again tried to clear her mind. Fortunately, the two males behind her did keep quiet – which she realized was a minor miracle, especially for Donkey. Of course, she realized, they were probably staring at her in amusement, wondering what kind of show she was going to supply for them. Well, let them. She'd see if she might give them something to remember. After a few moments more, she opened her eyes and fixed their gaze on the cell door lock. She tried to block out everything in the world except that lock. Then, after several seconds of intense transfixion, she sprang to life, whirling her body 360 degrees about, giving a shriek, and hammering the door lock with the base of her foot. The metal gave a mighty clang, but did not budge.

Fiona's martial arts yell quickly transformed into a howl of pain as she grabbed her now injured foot and started hopping about on the other one. Although Donkey looked at her with concern, Shrek began to laugh.

"Very funny," Fiona spat with a mix of anger and pain.

"Sorry, Fiona," Shrek said, trying to control the laughter that made a mockery of his words.

"Princess, are you okay?" Donkey said with genuine concern for which Fiona felt gratitude.

"Yes, I'm fine, Donkey," she said as she stopped hopping about. She felt the foot with a little more attention – it did not appear to be seriously hurt. She let it drop to the cell floor and tested it. Still a little sore, but it would be okay again shortly. She then hobbled the couple of steps to the cell door and pushed against it. It was still locked up tight. She then leaned down and carefully examined the cell door lock. "I think it's bent a little," she said.

"Which," Shrek asked, "the door, or your foot?" He then began a fit of laughter. Donkey looked at him, at first disapprovingly, but then he started to chuckle, and a few moments later he had joined Shrek in full-bodied laughter. Fiona stared at the two of them, her eyes narrowed and teeth grinding, and fumed.

* * *

Maximus hurried into the door of the jailhouse, but slowed his pace when he heard, to his great surprise, uncontrolled LAUGHTER further down the hall from the cell area. He realized that something remarkable must be going on. As the jailkeep, who had been trailing his rapid pace, came huffing and puffing up to the door of the jailhouse, Maximus turned back toward him and held out his hand to signal for him to stop. The jailkeep did, abruptly, and stood there gasping and looking in bewilderment at the Lieutenant. Maximus then pulled his hand back to his own mouth and held its index finger up to his lips, signaling the jailkeep to keep quiet. The man nodded, swallowed hard, and tried to control his breathing, which had settled into a rapid wheezing.

After a few moments, during which the laughter continued, Maximus slowly tiptoed up the hallway until he was just outside the cellblock administrative area, from which all the cells on that floor could be seen. The laughter had abated somewhat, and he risked a quick glance around the corner. The ogres and donkey were still in the cell, but Hood was indeed gone, apparently through the now barless window. The ogre and donkey were just finishing their fit of laughter, the ogre sitting on a cot and rubbing his eyes, the donkey laying on his back in the middle of the floor. The ogress stood by the cell door looking away from Maxiumus at the ogre, her arms crossed. She stood very still and very silent.

Maximus leaned away so that he was again entirely out of sight of their cell. He looked back to the jailkeep, who was now stand just behind him, a confused, quizzical expression on his face. Maximus leaned toward him and whispered very softly, directly into his ear, "Stay quiet. They don't know we're here. Let's listen to them for a bit; we may learn of Hood's whereabouts or some other devious plan they may be hatching to escape themselves."

The jailkeep nodded as Maximus at last heard the ogress speak over the dying dregs of her companions' laughter. "I am SO glad I was able to entertain you," she said with overt, cold sarcasm.

"Sorry, Fi," the ogre responded, the hint of a chuckle still in his voice, "I didn't mean anything by that little laughin' spell. It just –" There was a sudden pause in the ogre's speech, and after a moment he resume, his voice suddenly enthusiastic and very serious. "That's it!" he shouted. "That's the way out! A spell!"

Maximus smiled to himself. So, he was right! These creatures WERE the ones responsible for the magical happenings over the past day. The lieutenant looked back to the jailkeep who, apparently realizing the same thing, was looking at Maxiumus with some admiration. Maxiumus rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. He had best interpose before these sorcerers could conjure up some new foul deeds. Just a few seconds more and –

But then Maximus heard the donkey speak, apparently to the ogre. "What 'spell'? What'cho talkin' 'bout, Shrek?"

"Simple, Donkey," the ogre replied, "and 'simple's the operative word, here, at least as far as these humans go. That Gledius character, he wants them t'believe that we cast some kinda spell that caused all this stuff ta happen, for Fiona to transform, and all that, right?"

"I guess so," the donkey said, confused.

"So what are you suggesting, Shrek?" the ogress now chimed in, no longer angry, but nearly as confused as the donkey.

"Simple," the ogre said again, "I confess."

"You confess …. WHAT?" the ogress said, her voice edgy and now a little apprehensive.

"I confess that I'M the one that put a spell on you!" he replied, "After all, things were going just peachy at the weddin' before I showed up, weren't they? You were all human, and Farquaad had accepted you as his queen and all, and everything was set up for a storybook endin'. But y'see, that's when that evil, jealous ogre showed up and worked his magic, changed ya into a monster just like him so he could have ya for himself, and summoned the dragon to gulp down Farquaad so they could take over Duloc, you actin' as queen but actually under the evil ogre's spell! I just confess all that, and they'll let you go, cause I'll explain to them that once they do me in, the spell will be broke and you'll go back to bein' all human again. And you, too, Donkey. I'll tell them that your being able to talk an' all was part of it, too, and after they do away with me you'll go back to being an innocent, dumb animal." Then he added with a wry chuckle, "Which is half truth now, already."

There was a moment of silence, then the donkey asked, "You think they'll really buy that?"

The ogre gave a derisive grunt, then said, "There's a buncha superstitious humans. They already distrust ogres. An' they associate physical human beauty with goodness, and they saw what Fiona looked like b'fore. Yeah, I think that it'll work. If we sell it. So, Fiona, when I confess, I need you ta chime in and tell how you're comin' to your senses, and how I –"

"You CAN'T be serious," the ogress said simply.

"I'm deadly serious," he responded.

"Exactly!" the ogress blurted, "The operative word being 'DEAD'. Didn't I catch that as the key to the plan here – that you were offering up YOUR life to free US?"

"Well, not exactly," he said, "I mean, yeah, on the face of it. But that's just to get you two outta harm's way. Then I'll figure out somethin' else t'get myself free."

"Like what?" she asked.

"I don't know yet," he said defensively, "somethin' will come t'me. In the mean time, I need you ta –"

"No," she said firmly.

"Fiona," he protested, "it'll work better if you help back me up –"

"No!" she said, even more firmly. "Not only will I NOT back you up, but if you try to enact this 'plan', I'll tell them that your 'confession' is the lie it is."

"Fiona – my love –" the ogre protested with growing desperation in his voice, "please, let me try this. Even if the worst happens, you might go free. You're young, you've got your whole life ahead o'ya –"

"My life is BEFORE me," she replied calmly but assertively, "standing right before me. My life IS you, Shrek. You are my betrothed. And whatever happens, we face it together."

"But – but –" the ogre was stammering desperately, apparently trying to find some way to talk his – betrothed, did she say? – into supporting his plan. "What if all we have to face together is the executioner's axe?"

"In that case," she said meekly, "we can face eternity together – although perhaps a bit sooner than we might have preferred."

"But Fiona, these humans are taught from wee lads that ogres are beasts not t'be trusted. You know how many foul thing I've heard em' call me? Heavens, you must know some o'that, havin' been human yourself. How d'ya think we'll get a fair shake from their 'justice' system here? An' after all, you've only known me a couple a'days, anyhow. An' before that, you thought you'd be the wife o' some handsome prince in shining armor. So maybe – maybe your belief in – in us – well, maybe it's somethin' else that's just not meant t'be, just another delusion –"

"Do you believe it's a 'delusion' ?"

"Well – no – I confess, I've never felt more convinced of anything in m'life," the ogre conceded, "but that's why you've GOT to let me try this. If you'll just play along, I – Fiona, please, I'd hate t'think I'm responsible for causing your – for causing you to –"

"And I wouldn't be responsible for – whatever happened to YOU?" she countered, "After all, I'M the one who insisted on staying here."

"I know," he said, "but –"

"I'm Sorry, dearest," she said, "but whatever Destiny has in store for us here, we face it together."

"No matter what?" he asked, a defeated tone in his voice.

"No matter what," she replied, her own voice, although sounding certain of its answer, was also apparently attempting to show more bravado than it actually did.

Maximus heard the ogre sigh heavily in resignation, and the lieutenant leaned back against the wall, his own head spinning. The conversation had certainly taken turns he had not expected. At first, he was so confident that these beings were about to reveal themselves for the cunning, nefarious schemers that Gledius had warned him about. But now –

Suddenly, outside on the street, the automatic P.A. system kicked in and started playing a muzak version of some popular song – a gentle love ballad. Maximus decided to chance a peek around the corner again at the cell. He did so, and saw the ogres standing in the middle of the cell facing each other, the male gently holding the female's cupped hands in his own, the donkey standing off to the side watching them. Then, suddenly, the female picked up on the tune and began to sing:

_"No matter what they tell us, no matter what they do_

_No matter what they teach us, what we believe is true …"_

"Hey!" the donkey injected, "Princess, you oughtn't do that! Shrek don't like sing–" His words were cut off by a curt warning glance from the ogre. "Uh, never mind," the equine mumbled. The ogress smiled and continued:

_"No matter what they call us, however they attack_

_No matter where they take us, we'll find our own way back_

_I can't deny what I believe, I can't be what I'm not_

_I know our love's forever_

_I know, no matter what …"_

At that point the ogress's voice choked a bit. She bit her lip and looked down. The ogre reached down and gently brushed a tear from her eye. She looked back up at him, forced a smile, and started a new verse:

_"If only tears were laughter, if only night was day_

_If only prayers were answered, then we would hear God say:_

_'No matter what they tell you, no matter what they do_

_No matter what they teach you, what you believe is true_

_And I will keep you safe and strong and sheltered from the storm_

_No matter where it's barren, a dream is being born'"_

The ogress began to choke up again, and the ogre took her into his arms in a tight embrace. Maximus, forgetting himself, took a step forward so that he was in full view of the cell. The ogres didn't notice him at first, but the donkey did. "Hey, guys, we got company," the equine said with distaste, "Looks like the captain's lackey again."

The ogress leaned back from her companion's chest, although their embrace did not completely break. Both looked at Maximus with the same distaste as the donkey, and then the ogress continued singing:

_"No matter who they follow, no matter where they lead_

_No matter how they judge us …"_

Here the ogress turned away from Maxiums and stared directly up into the ogre's eyes as she concluded, her voice strong and certain:

_"… You're the only ONE I need!_

_No matter if the sun don't shine or if the skies are blue_

_No matter what the ENDING, my life BEGAN with you_

_I can't deny what I believe, I can't be what I'm not_

_I know this love's forever,_

_That's all that matters now, no … matter … what …"_

Here the ogress again suddenly seemed emotionally drained, and collapsed against the ogre's chest. The ogre shot one last glance and sneer toward Maximus and then turned back to comforting the ogress.

Maximus stood there for a moment, mental and emotional tempests tossing in his mind. Then, from behind him, the jailkeep asked, "Um, sir, what do you want me to do?"

"Uh … well …" the lieutenant stammered, his eyes darting nervously about. Then they alighted on a wall clock. "It's morning. You should feed your prisoners. I – I'll see about getting a search party together to go after Hood. These others won't fit through that window." With that, Maximus turned and strode down the hallway, suddenly anxious to be away from the cell and the things he kept hearing and seeing there that tore at the fabric of his beliefs. The last thing he heard was the jailkeep saying, "All right, you all. Time for breakfast. You have your choice. Eggs or waffles."


	14. Chapter 12: High Noon

Chapter 12: High Noon

Donkey sat on the floor in a corner of the cell. Looking out through the cell bars, he could see four guards standing by, keeping their eyes on him and his cellmates. Shrek laid awkwardly on his back on one of the cots, his hands folded behind his head and his eyes closed. Fiona paced back and forth across the cell floor, back and forth, every so often clenching her hands or casting a perturbed glance at the guards. At length she stopped, looked over at Shrek, and asked with a bit of irritation, "How can you just LAY there like that?"

"It ain't easy," the ogre replied calmly, "this blasted cot really IS too small fer my dimensions –"

"That's NOT what I mean, Shrek, and you KNOW it!" she shot back.

"Well," Shrek said, opening his eyes and propping himself up on one elbow, "what would ye have me do? Waste me energy pacin' back and forth like you? Or did ye plan t'keep at it till ye wear a path deep enough that we kin use it as an escape tunnel?"

Fiona frowned at her fiance, but Donkey's ears perked up and he asked enthusiastically, "Can she DO that? Is she THAT heavy now?"

Fiona slowly turned toward Donkey and glared at the animal, one of her eyes twitching slightly, her hands now fully clenched. Her mouth was closed tightly, but the sound of her teeth grinding within was quite audible despite that. Donkey's smile faded, his ears drooped back, and his head lowered as Shrek bit his own lower lip to stifle a laugh.

"Uh – what I MEAN is, uh –" the cowering Donkey stammered.

Fortunately for the anxious equine, at that moment the low muzak that normally played through the speakers outside the jail was interrupted by a loud announcer's voice, which caused both ogres to swing their full attention out through the small barless window. "Attention! All personnel!" the announcer said. Then he cleared his voice and continued, obviously reading from a script, "Hear ye, hear ye. By order of the military governor of the province of Duloc, there shall be a spectacle of swift and sure justice at the coliseum at noon today. All good citizens of Duloc proper are instructed to attend so that they might witness the fate of those who conspire to commit regicide, as well as anyone else who would treacherously seek to destroy the order and discipline that make this such a perfect place. Bring the kiddies! The first fifty children will receive free executioner's mask replicas as well as toy axes. Hope to see you there! Thank you."

The muzak resumed and the two ogres cast worried glances toward each other. Then their attention was suddenly drawn past the front of the cell as the door to the hallway opened and Gledius entered, accompanied by several additional guards and, trailing behind, Beaglely. The captain – or former captain – was dressed not in his familiar armor and arming cap, but rather wore a crimson outfit and hat much like that favored by Farquaad. Beaglely, as normal, was dressed in a pressed, formal suit, and carried his briefcase. Shrek rose from the cot and moved forward to stand beside Fiona as Gledius halted in front of their cell, just out of arm's reach.

"Well now," Gledius smiled, "good morning! I'm sorry to have kept you in such unfortunate accommodations, but as I trust you just heard, you won't be detained much longer."

"Yes, Captain, we heard," Fiona replied with disdain.

"Excuse me, your former Highness," Gledius said, "but my station has changed somewhat. You may address me as 'Governor' now."

"What I'D like to address you as –" Shrek began, then with a glance at Fiona, continued, "can't be said in mixed company."

"Yeah," Donkey chimed in, "it wouldn't be – civilized."

"And speaking of civilization," Fiona added, crossing her arms, "most CIVILIZED societies I know have this little thing called a 'trial' before they sentence prisoners to death. Or have you dispensed with that little formality?"

"Oh, no, not at ALL, your would-be Majesty!" Gledius replied with mock indignation, "We followed the letter of the law exactly. You had your trial this morning!"

"WHAT?!" the two ogres and Donkey said together.

"Indeed!" Gledius said, "Actually, since one of the roles of King Farquaad was leader of the army, we were obliged to hold a military tribunal.

"Oh, really?" Fiona said, visibly trying to hold her temper, "and WE as the ACCUSED, were not even allowed to ATTEND this … tribunal?"

"I'm sorry," Gledius said, "but there was the chance that military secrets might be revealed, which meant that only those with a need-to-know were allowed to attend."

"Military secrets?" Shrek growled. "WHAT 'military secrets'?"

"I can't tell you that," Gledius said, "that's secret."

Shrek let out a disgusted harumph and shook his head.

"And who passed judgement on us?" Fiona asked, "Can you tell us THAT?"

"Indeed!" Gledius replied with exaggerated politeness, "By Dulocian law, a majority of the knights that reside within the province of Duloc attended the tribunal, and, with the evidence laid out, they unanimously found you guilty."

Fiona's brow furrowed. "And how did you manage to gather a majority of the knights in Duloc together in one place so quickly?"

"It wasn't difficult," the new governor replied, "I simply went to the hospital convalescent ward. Well over half the knights in Duloc were already there, still recovering from injuries received in the tournament held to determine your rescuer. Injuries inflicted by … well …" Gledius trailed off and he nodded slightly toward Shrek.

"So this wasn't exactly an impartial jury," Fiona said.

"Impartial?" Gledius said, "The tribunal method says nothing about impartiality on the part of the attendees, only that both sides of the case be presented."

"But we had no lawyer!" Fiona protested.

"Oh, indeed you DID!" Gledius countered, "Your case was laid out by your appointed lawyer – Mr. Beaglely here."

At that point all eyes turned toward Beaglely, who looked back coolly with no discernable emotions.

"Really?" Shrek said, then asked in a voice tinged with sarcasm, "And what did he say?"

Beaglely then spoke in response, his voice matter-of-fact. "I simply laid out the facts leading up to and including the – events of the wedding, as you had explained them to me. Unfortunately, the tribunal chose to believe the motives attributed by Governor Gledius."

"Up to the events of the wedding and – nothing more?" Fiona asked.

"No, your Majesty," Beaglely replied, "would there have been a point?"

Fiona sighed a deep, depressed sigh. "No, Mr. Beaglely, I suppose not." She then turned to Shrek and looked up at him with her large, slightly glistening blue eyes. "I'm sorry Shrek," she said softly, "you were right. You were SO right."

"I'm sorry, Fi," he said comfortingly, taking her in his arms, "I never wished I was wrong more in m'life."

* * *

Later that day, around 11:30, one of the square rocks that made up the floor to the cell began to move. Then it began to rise. A few seconds later, the heavy stone slid aside and up through the opening peeked the head of Monsieur Hood.

"Mon amis!" he called gently in his French accent, "Come quick! We must be –" But then he stopped, realizing his words were futile. The cell was empty. He looked out past the bars at the front of the cell and saw there was no jailkeep or guards, either.

"Sacre bleu!" he gasped, hoisting himself up out of the hole, "Zey are gone!"

Hood looked about the cell as a dwarf, his workman's clothes torn and dirty, a well-worn pick in his hands and a grumpy expression on his white-bearded face, peeked out of the hole. "Gone?!" he echoed.

"Oui," Hood confirmed, "gone!"

Just then another dwarf, this one bald and beardless and with unusually large ears and nose, popped up in the hole beside the first dwarf. The new one looked about in bewilderment as the grumpy one scowled at him and said, "You led us to the wrong cell, you dope!"

"No-no," Hood said, noticing the barless window. "It iz zee right cell, but –" He heard noises from outside and went to the window. He noticed large crowds of people milling toward the coliseum. He also noted the presence of a many alert-looking guards AROUND the coliseum.

"Oh-oh," Hood said, "I zink our friends are to be zee main attraction at a one-time event about to 'appen inside zat coliseum."

The beardless dwarf looked confused, but the other one said, "Oh, well. It looks like we're too late. I didn't think this would do much good anyway, if you recall."

Hood turned toward the dwarves, an irritated expression on his face, and pointed in the direction of the coliseum. "Can you tunnel us into zere?" he asked, "It iz about … two hundred yards."

"Two hundred yards?!" the grumpy dwarf echoed, "Criminy, do you know how much effort that will –" The dwarf then noted the wilting glares being leveled at him by both the bandit and his companion. "Oh, good grief, all right," he growled, his large-eared companion's glare changing to a smile, "but it will take a while. There's only seven of us in this tunnel, y'know."

"Zen we had best get started, n'est pas?" Hood asked.

The bearded dwarf scowled and muttered something incomprehensible, then he and his companion disappeared down the hole. Hood quickly followed after them.

* * *

It was just a few minutes later when the coliseum doors opened and the three prisoners were led in. Fiona was first, her hands bound behind her back by heavy rope tied tightly about her wrists. Just behind her came Shrek, likewise bound. Behind them a soldier led Donkey by a rope leashed around his neck. Around the three prisoners marched a group of twenty soldiers, all with swords drawn and ready, and all paying close attention to their charges. In front of this group of guards and guarded marched Lieutenant Maximus.

Shrek looked around the circle of guards for an opening or weak link – and found none. Unlike the contingent led by Gledius, this crop of Maximus's soldiers seemed to know what they were doing. He then looked around the top of the coliseum and, as at the tournament held there so recently, he saw a ring of crossbowmen, their weapons already cocked and trained in him and his companions.

Also like the tournament, the seats of the stadium were filled with Dulocians. When the ogres entered, a general, indistinct murmur rose from hundreds of throats. At the far end of the coliseum, behind the high podium previously manned by Farquaad, stood a smug looking Gledius, and behind him, off to one side, stood a characteristically placid Beaglely. In the center of the stadium ground there sat an uncovered twenty-foot-long flatbed wagon with a six-foot ramp leading from the ground up to the flatbed at one end, and on the other end was erected a chopping block, with a large wicker basket laying just in front of it. Beside the chopping block, waiting patiently, stood the behooded Thelonious. He carried a large-headed axe in one hand, and Shrek could note an occasional glint of sunlight reflecting off of its sharpened blade. Off to the other side of the chopping block, trembling slightly, stood the hunched figure of the priest that had married Fiona and Farquaad. He gripped what Shrek assumed was a Bible in his hands and looked at the oncoming procession with a worried expression. Shrek smirked, wondering what the CLERGYMAN had to be worried about.

One other figure of note was that of a man in plain village clothes who stood off to one side of the wagon. He was carrying what looked to be a set of posters and looking back up at Gledius. As Shrek and his companions and escorts marched across the coliseum ground, Gledius nodded to the man. He bowed back, then looked up at the crowd and held up a poster that read, "BOO'S and JEERS." After a moment's hesitation, the crowd responded, raining a chorus of derision down on the prisoners. Shrek sneered back at them. THESE were the people that Beaglely thought could handle the "empowerment" of self-government? Shrek shook his head. In front of him, he saw Fiona, who had obviously observed the same things, slump in her posture. Above the din of the crowd, he thought he could also make out her soft sniffle. A brief flood of anger coursed through him, and Shrek strained at his bonds. But it was no use – the knot held. Mumbling under his breath, Shrek continued to march, his eyes alert and mind racing to find a workable option among the quickly dwindling possibilities.

As they reached the base of the ramp Maximus stood aside and, looking back at his charges, took his sword and used it to gesture to his men to lead them up the ramp. But the gesture was greatly lacking in enthusiasm. And as Shrek followed Fiona up the ramp – which, despite being rather thick, creaked and bowed slightly under their weight – he saw that the Lieutenant's face looked glum and reticent, and he avoided eye contact with the ogre.

"What's wrong?" Shrek goaded Maximus mockingly, "Aren't ye PROUD of this grand show you're puttin' on in 'defense' of your wonderful village and precious humanity?"

Maximus did not reply, but rather simply shifted his eyes away. The ogre began to say something else, but ahead of him he heard Fiona say in a voice resigned and weary, "Shrek, please. Don't."

Shrek looked toward her, but could only see her back and slumped head. "Don't give up, Fiona!" He said in a loud whisper, "Don't never give up!" But he saw no response from her. He then glanced back over his shoulder and saw Donkey behind him. Donkey was looking up at the crowd with wide, terrified eyes, and was noticeably trembling. Under his breath the beast kept mumbling, "I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die!"

Fiona reached the top of the ramp and stepped onto the flatbed, then continued walking toward the executioner and priest at the far end. Shrek felt one of the guards prod him with the tip his sword. Shrek shot the helmeted figure an evil look and sneer, then reluctantly followed Fiona. Several of the guards then followed the trio of prisoners onto the flatbed and stood to either side of them as they came to a halt just before the chopping block. Shrek looked at the priest, who in turn cowered and looked down with a touch of fear but also what appeared to be a touch of embarrassment and – shame? It was not unlike the look that Shrek saw in Maximus's face. Speaking of the lieutenant, Shrek noted him taking position on the ground just in front of the wagon, where he stood so he could face all the prisoners.

Just then the three prisoners jumped slightly in surprise as a set of five trumpets sounded a few short notes. The crowd noise died and they all looked over to where Gledius stood. The governor smiled to the crowd and then began to speak, his words loud and exaggerated. "Friends, Dulocians, citizens, lend me your ears!" the said. "We are assembled here today to see justice done to those who would wound our noble knights, kill our newly crowned king, usurp the throne of Duloc, and threaten to undermine the very foundations of Dulocian society itself!" Gledius then looked down at the prisoners and gestured toward them with his upturned arms, and continued, "Look at them! Three MONSTERS, hideous freaks borne in evil, sent here as the vanguard to prepare the way for others of their ilk to despoil the society that our murdered monarch fought so long and so hard to make safe and secure for us and our kind. Through sorcery and magic tricks and sweet deceptive words and premeditated shows of apparent 'kindness' they thought to manipulate the sentiments of our citizenry to accept – nay, EMBRACE them and their rule, and stand aside as more and more of them infiltrated our precious Dulocian society that good King Farquaad had so diligently and painstakingly labored to purify and make safe for you and your children."

At those words Gledius signaled to the sign bearer, and the man held up the "BOO'S and JEERS" sign again. The crowd responded accordingly, and Shrek noticed a few women instinctively draw their children protectively to them as they looked down with scolding eyes and berated the trio. Shrek just shook his head. In front of him Fiona continued to look down, and behind him Donkey continued his terrified trembling.

Gledius made a chopping notion with his arm and the sign bearer lowered the sign. As the jeering died down, the governor continued. "Fortunately, Dulocian law has triumphed. As per said law and per my former responsibility of Captain of the Guards, I have reluctantly been forced to assume the temporary military governorship of Duloc and arrest the scheming culprits. And as per said law, the creatures were tried and found guilty of all charges. So our law, the thing we hold so dear, and which I would rather die than see adulterated, has come to our rescue. I have even asked City Manager Beaglely here, the most expert person on our laws –" Gledius gestured back to Beaglely – "to verify the veracity and legitimacy of my actions. Mr. Beaglely?"

Beaglely stepped forward beside Gledius and addressed the crowd in his matter-of-fact voice, "Yes, it is true that the arrest, attainment of the military governorship, and conviction of the four defendants was consistent with provisions of Dulocian law, which Governor Gledius is now obliged to uphold."

Beaglely then simply stopped speaking, stepped back, and looked over at Gledius. The governor looked back at him, pleased at the confirmation but slightly perplexed about its wording. Gledius quickly shoved that aside and again began addressing to the crowd. "You heard City Manager Beaglely speak of FOUR convicts," he said, "the fourth, and most terrifying, is currently bound and under heavy guard at the base of the royal castle. I refer, of course, to the terrible dragon, the hellspawn that actually devoured our King and was then used as an instrument of terror over the citizens and defenders of Duloc to suppress them while these others seized the King's chambers and began plotting to undue all his attempts at order and security. Fortunately, through Divine inspiration, I was able to find a way to trick the tricksters, and so I was able to subdue the beast. Although it proved too dangerous to attempt to move the monster from its moorings to be here in this coliseum to share the fate of its confederates, immediately following our business here I shall personally see to it that its days of butchery are ended by slaying it myself!" With that Gledius drew his sword and raised it in the air with his right arm in a grand gesture, while making a subtle indication to the sign bearer with his left. The man obediently raised a card that said "CHEERING." The crowd cheered obediently. Shrek rolled his eyes.

"But first things first," Gledius said, re-sheathing his sword. "Mr. Beaglely, if you would be so kind as to read the sentence."

Beaglely nodded and leaned forward to set down his briefcase. After fumbling with it a moment he arose holding a scroll in his hands. He read, "It is the judgement of this tribunal that Fiona, Queen of Duloc, and the queen's confidants known as 'Shrek' the ogre, the donkey, and the dragon, are found guilty of the charges levied against them. The queen and the queen's said confidants are hereby ordered to be put to death beginning upon the first stroke of noon on the day of this order."

Beaglely stopped reading and looked toward the clock tower. All other eyes in the stadium that could see the tower looked towards it as well. Even Fiona looked up. The clock read 11:50.

Gledius looked down at the platform. "Prepare the 'Queen'!" he ordered, tingeing his pronouncement of Fiona's title with sarcastic contempt.

Two guards simultaneously took hold of Fiona's arms. "NO!" Shrek cried, and started to move forward. But he suddenly felt the weight of several guards on him, and he was forced down to his knees. A sword appeared at the base of his throat, silencing him and forcing him to end his struggles – for now.

Fiona allowed herself to be led the couple of steps toward the base of the chopping block. The priest stepped forward, looking even more hunched than normal. He finally looked up at her and asked gently, "Do you have any last confessions … your Highness?"

"Confessions?" she said, almost absently. Then she smiled sadly and said, "Only a sincere if misplaced desire to do right and –" here she looked back to Shrek "– and an undying love for that most special of beings. My rescuer. My love." She offered Shrek, whose eyes still darting furtively about for some sort of option, one last tentative little smile, then she sighed and turned back toward the priest. "That's all, Father," she said.

The priest hesitated for a moment, staring into Fiona's sad, sincere, deep blue eyes. "Bless you, child," he said softly. She smiled back meekly.

"Very good, Father!" Gledius called down. "You've performed your assigned duties for that monster. You may step aside so that the executioner may prepare to perform his!"

At first the priest did not move. "Father!" Gledius called down, "Did you hear me? Is your hearing all right?"

At that point the priest slowly turned and looked up at the governor. The priest's face was red with a mixture of fear, embarrassment, and – oddly – anger. "There are no 'monsters' here," the priest said, his voice nearly cracking as it rose to a level it had not assumed in years, "unless I am looking at one!"

Gledius, startled, stared down in disbelief as the robed figure, trembling nearly as much as Donkey now, raised a long finger, bent with arthritis, and pointed directly at the governor. "If you do this thing," the priest said, "it is not THEY who will need God's mercy, but you, and all that support you in this wretched action. I refuse to be numbered among them any longer." The priest lowered his finger, then his arm, and then his head. His trembling increased and he seemed to be having trouble keeping his feet. He then spoke again, his voice also trembling terribly now as he said, "May God forgive me for my silence until now."

The priest then collapsed. Thelonious dropped his axe and quickly moved to catch the clergyman as he fainted. Like many in the audience, Fiona shrieked at the sight – she tried moving forward but her own bonds keep her from being able to help. Shrek started to move, hoping that this unexpected event might distract the guard at his throat, but the man was well disciplined and kept the sword there, ending Shrek's hope.

Maximus quickly ran to the edge of the platform. "Here!" he called to Thelonious, reaching toward him with upstretched arms. The executioner kneeled and gently handed the frail, elderly priest down to the Lieutenant. Maximus then nodded toward two nearby guards. "You two!" he called, "Take him to the hospital! Be quick!"

The two guards hurried over and as Maximus carefully handed him over to them the priest opened his eyes, smiled weekly at Maximus, and laid a tender hand against his cheek. "Bless you, child," he whispered, "I'll be all right. It's just that it's been so long since I've had such … exhilaration …" Then he closed his eyes and his hand dropped.

Frightened, Maximus laid his ear against the priest's chest. He thanked God when he could still hear a heartbeat. He stood back and said to the two guards, "Go! Be quick!" The guards started toward the exit of the stadium, moving as quickly as they could without jostling their frail cargo too much. A moment later they disappeared through the door as the indistinct buzz of crowd noise around the stadium grew.

Gledius, who had been watching the scene agape in wide-eyed horror, finally came to his senses. Shaking his head, he called out, "Great Heavens! The Sorceress isn't done yet! Look how the she-beast was even able to mesmerize one of God's holiest, most loyal servants, and a true icon of Duloc!"

Gledius then gestured to the card bearer, the gesture more overt and desperate than he would have liked. The bearer saw it, but was a bit confused about which card he was to hold up. He tentatively showed Gledius the "CHEERING" sign. Gledius shook the sign off, and held down two fingers. The bearer then indicated the "BOO's and JEERS" sign. Gledius gave a short, curt nod, and the card bearer held up the sign. At that point many in the crowd obediently let loose with the prescribed noises, but about half the crowd continued their indistinct, confused buzz of conversation about what they had just witnessed, and what it meant. Shrek noticed the difference, and looked about him at the many confused faces. Then he looked up to where Fiona stood, her white dress brightly reflecting the noontime light, reminding him of some heavenly messenger – albeit one with green skin, disheveled red hair, and bound hands. She was also looking around her at the crowd, also noticing the unexpected confusion and the number of people who hadn't noticed or were refusing to obey the sign. And then she smiled. It was not the sad smile of a few moments before, but one of renewed hope. Her blue eyes, morose before, now twinkled slightly.

"Quickly!" Gledius called down, "Executioner, perform your duty before that vile creature can do any further damage!"

"NO!" Fiona called back up at Gledius, "I believe I have the right to say some last words!"

"NO!" Gledius said, "You are not allowed! Proceed with the execution!"

"NO!" Beaglely yelled.

The entire stadium finally fell silent – Fiona and Gledius included – and stared in disbelief at the dapper little man who had just yelled so loudly. Beaglely cleared his throat and said, "Dulocian law dictates that the prisoner is allowed to make a last statement."

"But …" Gledius began to protest.

"It is the law, Governor," Beaglely said, with perhaps a tad to much emphasis on the word 'Governor', "and you have sworn to uphold it."

Gledius frowned and glanced over at the clock tower. 11:54. "Very well," he said, then turned to the crowd. "By law the convicted is allowed to speak!" he announced. "But beware! This is no normal criminal! This is a creature who has used her powers to strike down kings and priests! Prepare to shield yourselves, and do not fall victim to her demonic wiles!"

"Are you QUITE finished?" Fiona, flushed with anger, called up to the Governor.

"Speak, she-beast!" Gledius called down, "And be quick, so that we may do justice!"

Fiona sneered at Gledius, then looked over the crowd as it grew progressively quiet. Then she began speaking, her voice loud and strong. "Citizens of Duloc, the so-called Governor has claimed that my motives in marrying Farquaad and becoming your queen were selfish and self-centered. That I had a hidden agenda. In this, he is correct!"

A surprised murmuring quickly rose throughout the stadium. Gledius's face took on a look of shock, then he cocked an eyebrow and one corner of his mouth curled in a wicked smile. Shrek's face also registered shock, his jaw dropping. "Woman," he moaned, "what're ye do –"

An intense sidelong glance from Fiona silenced Shrek, then she waited a few more seconds for her words to sink into the crowd and for their murmuring to die down. "However," she then continued, "that agenda had nothing to do with plots against your Lord Farquaad, who I had only met that morning, or to seize control of your kingdom. Indeed, it was much more personal and self-centered than that. I cared not for Duloc at all. My goal in wedding Farquaad was to rid myself of a curse – a curse which at night changed me into … into what you see before you now. I had no feelings for you, nor even for Farquaad himself. Indeed, the only person who I cared about, who meant anything to me and whose happiness I cared about – was myself. Love's first kiss, I knew, was the cure for my plight, and I was determined to achieve that goal – even though I really didn't know at the time what 'love' was – I only had a silly, superficial idea. I had thought that kiss was to be shared with my rescuer. But when that rescuer turned out to be a large and pugnacious ogre –" here she spared a brief glance and smile toward Shrek "– I allowed myself to believe that, as he claimed at the time, my true love was destined to be his employer, Lord Farquaad; a man who, after all, had the appropriate pedigree and rank to make a 'proper' husband for me. And so we began our journey back here. But for me, it was actually two journeys – one of miles, and one of maturity. Within the castle walls I saw my rescuer demonstrate bravery and cunning to rival any knight. Then, along the journey here I glimpsed the depths of his soul, a soul more pure and noble than any I could have imagined, in man or ogre." She looked down at Shrek again and smiled. The ogre returned the smile awkwardly and blushed.

"SOUL?!" Gledius boomed, his tone derisive. Fiona swung back around and glared up at the governor as he continued, "What do you know of souls? You're a beast, like your 'rescuer'! You abandoned your soul when you abandoned your humanity!"

"The currents of my rescuer's soul run far deeper than the pathetic shallows that YOURS treads!" Fiona spat back.

"Really?" Gledius said, "Well, you –"

"SIR!" Beaglely interrupted.

Gledius looked back, irritated. "What is it?"

"You are not allowed to interrupt the condemned during her last statement."

"But I –"

"It's the LAW," the city manager said with an air of finality.

Gledius frowned, then looked back down at Fiona. "Very well," he said, "you'll find out about the fate of your souls soon enough. Finish your statement, ogress, so that we may finish this affront to our fair province."

Fiona shot one last venomous look at Gledius, then fought to regain her composure as she again addressed the crowd. "As I was saying, the more time I spent with my companion, the more he opened my eyes – and my heart. For the first time that I can recall, I felt something for someone other than myself. But the scales of prejudice and conditioned expectations were all not so easily washed away, and so I allowed myself to continue to believe that when I shared a kiss with Farquaad, magic would happen and I would fall in love. Such delusions clouded my realization that the true magic was already happening as my rescuer and I spent more time together and learned more about each other. It was a realization that I fear I did not fully grasp until just after Farquaad and I were pronounced wed, and Shrek came to my rescue once more. What happened then – I truly, truly regret. I chose to stay afterwards because I felt a sense of responsibility because, yes, a great deal of that was my fault, and I wanted to try to set things right. To that end, we attempted to craft a new constitution for the people of Duloc, one that did away with royalty altogether, and made each of you equal in the eyes of the law – whether you be born of Dulocian nobility, or an ogre making due on its outskirts. Equal protection, tolerance, and even a voice in electing your leaders, so that Duloc in law would recognize what I learned as a person – that things like royalty and class and differences of outward appearance are artificial constructions that only get in the way of fulfilling our innate potential and recognizing our inner beauty."

The murmuring of the crowd picked up again. Gledius looked around, somewhat nervously, as Fiona concluded. "Perhaps it was an idea too radical, too ahead of its time. And perhaps I am guilty of bad judgement. But I am not guilty of the charges of which I have been convicted. And my companions –" here she nodded back towards Shrek and Donkey "– their only guilt is in love and loyalty towards me, however misplaced that has turned out to be. If a life must be taken, then take mine. But my companions are not conspirators. They are heroes." Now she looked directly up at Gledius and said, "They deserve the gratitude of Duloc, not its condemnation."

"Yes, well, the tribunal has ruled otherwise," Gledius said, forcing confidence into his voice, "now, are you finished?"

Fiona glanced up at the crowd to either side of her as their murmuring continued to increase in volume, then stared back up at Gledius. "Am I?" she asked wryly.

Gledius licked his lips then addressed the executioner standing beside Fiona. "Thelonious, do you duty!"

Fiona felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder, then it forced the ogress down to her knees with surprising strength. She looked up at the head atop the tall muscular figure and saw only what looked like greenish skin behind the black hood's eyeholes. "Who ARE you?" Fiona asked.

"Sorry, Miss," Thelonious said in his dull voice, ignoring her question, "just doin' my job." With that, he placed a hand atop Fiona's head and forced her to lean down over the chopping block, then quickly cinched a rope across her neck to hold her in place.

"FIONA, NO!!" Shrek screamed again, and again tried to move. And again, he felt the blade at his throat and the prick of several other swordpoints, as well as the hands of a dozen humans keeping him in place on his own knees.

Gledius signaled to the sign bearer, who held up a sign that read, "ANXIOUS SILENCE." But the crowd's murmuring continued, actually picking up in volume. From the general drone, a few shouted phrases could be made out, among them "LET HER GO!" and "RELEASE THEM!"

Then someone shouted "FREE THEM!" A few other voices also shouted, "FREE THEM!" Then, several people in a small group voiced in unison the phrase "FREE THEM!" And then they kept repeating it, in a type of chant, punching each word forward, "FREE THEM! FREE THEM! FREE THEM!" Other people around the stadium began picking up on the chant, and soon voices from all over were joining in the chorus, "FREE THEM! FREE THEM! FREE THEM!"

Gledius felt sweat popping out on his brow. He signaled to the sign bearer again, and the latter held up a sign that said simply, "SILENCE!" But it seemed to have no effect. The governor looked over at the clock tower. 11:58. He looked down at Thelonious and nodded anxiously. The executioner nodded back and began to raise his axe. Fiona closed her eyes and bit her lip in anticipation. Shrek screamed again, "NOOOO!" Several people in the crowd screamed also, but it finally fell silent as Thelonious continued to raise his blade.

But then he stopped with it half-way up. He looked down at Fiona, her eyes still shut, but her lips were moving now as if she were uttering a silent prayer. Thelonious sighed and again began to raise the axe.

Then he stopped again.

The executioner gave a deeper sign, then lowered the axe all the way. "Nope," he said simply. "This ain't happenin'."

A cheer went out from the crowd and Shrek nearly collapsed with relief. Fiona also let out a deep breath and would have collapsed herself had she not already been laying on the chopping block. The various soldiers anxiously looked up around them at the surprisingly and quite uncharacteristically restive crowd. Maximus felt particular concern as he eyed the people, but so far they seemed content to raise voices, not resistance. His attention was quickly diverted from the crowd, however, when he heard Gledius's shrill voice, screaming a few octaves higher than he had heard it before, "LIEUTENANT!" Maximus looked up at the governor and saw him, his face red and sweating, his eyes nearly bulging, waving one extended finger at Thelonious. "ARREST THAT MAN!"

Maximus paused, then turned towards a few of his nearby soldiers, who stood attentively awaiting his orders. The lieutenant nodded toward Thelonious. The soldiers saluted, turned and moved toward the chopping block. A few seconds later they were leading Thelonious under guard down off of the wagon and toward the stadium exit as the crowd boo'ed heavily. Maximus then turned and looked back up to where Gledius had been, but the governor was gone. Maximus frowned and shifted his gaze to the clock tower. It was now less than a minute to noon. Suddenly Maximus heard heavy footsteps, and turned to see Gledius striding quickly and broadly across the stadium floor towards the wagon. His eyes held a strange, almost maniacal look, part panic and part anger. Maximus wasn't sure which emotion held more sway, but he was sure of one thing; those eyes remained fixed on Fiona's still bound form on the wagon. As the governor passed Maximus, the lieutenant heard him mutter, apparently to himself, "If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself!"

Shrek was still feeling the residual wave of relief from when Thelonious had refused to perform his bloody chore, and had been watching with gratitude and sadness as the executioner was being led away past the back of the wagon. Thus he did not notice the slight clattering from the front of the wagon as Gledius leapt onto it. But then the crowd gave a collective gasp and Fiona screamed, and Shrek swung his gaze attentively forward. The ogre roared in rage and horror as he saw Gledius, eyes crazed and glaring down at the trapped and struggling Fiona, raise Thelonious's heavy discarded axe shakily upwards. The sunlight again glistened off of its razor-sharp blade.

Then the clock struck noon.


	15. Chapter 13: True Colors

Chapter 13: True Colors

Shortly before noon, Goldilocks and the Big Bad Wolf emerged from the forest at the edge of Duloc proper and found themselves looking across a few hundred yards of long, hilly green fields at the walled city and its incredibly tall castle. As they emerged, they thought they heard a chorus of fairies singing something about being out of the woods. They looked about confusedly for the source, but the music had stopped. They ended up looking at each other, pausing, and then just shrugging.

"Well, there it is, Kid," the wolf said, gesturing toward the city, "Duloc. Bigger and gaudier than ever. You sure you wanna go through with this?"

"Oh, yes!" Goldilocks said, "Queen Fiona might –" Goldilocks paused as across the fields she could hear the sound of the distant chant of hundreds of voices. It sounded like they were saying, "Free them!"

"Oh, my!" Goldilocks said, "Something's happening!" She looked at the broomstick with disgust and shook it. "Boy, do I wish I could get this thing to fly right now," she said with frustration.

"Y'know, Kid, I've been thinking about that," the wolf said. "I believe I know what you need to get off the ground."

"What's that?" she asked excitedly.

"T-h-r-r-r-r-u-s-t!" the wolf smiled, rolling his r's. "If you catch a good tail wind at takeoff, I think the thing's flying motor – or whatever it uses – just might kick in."

"But … how do I catch such a wind?" she asked, somewhat disappointed.

"Well, I don't mean to brag, Kid," the wolf replied, rubbing the back of the claws of one paw against his nightgown and then looking down at them mercurially, "but when it comes to creating big winds, I'm a bit of an expert. Now, straddle that thing, point it to Duloc, and hang on for a ride!"

Goldilocks hesitated just a moment more, skeptically looking down at the broom. Then she looked back toward the city of Duloc, noticing that the chant had died down. Then suddenly she heard several screams. Hesitating no longer, she quickly straddled the broom, took a firm hold of its upper staff, and pointed it toward the castle. "Okay, go!" she said, then bit her lip in anticipation.

The wolf quickly positioned himself several feet behind Goldilocks, facing her back as she faced the castle. Then his chest heaved like a great balloon as he huffed, and he puffed, and then he blew a great burst of wind toward the back of and below the little girl. Goldilocks squealed as she was swept into the air. Then, suddenly, just as the wolf had predicted, something "clicked" in the broom and it started flying on its own. Unfortunately, it truly WAS flying on its own, as a terrified Goldilocks found herself being flow higher and higher in an erratic flight path by a broom which she had no control over.

"NO! WAIT! NOT THERE! TOWARD THE CASTLE!" she shouted as the broom spiraled upwards several hundred feet, then suddenly veered up and away from the castle and zoomed off into the clouds somewhere in the opposite direction of Duloc.

On the ground below, the wolf grimaced as he saw the broom disappear and heard the fading strains of Goldilocks yelling "NOOOOoooo…"

"Maybe that wasn't such a good idea," he said regretfully to himself, then looked around, embarrassed.

He swung his head instinctively back in the direction of Duloc as the clock struck noon. He wondered about the loud noises were that kept drifting across the field, and just what WAS going on in there to cause them.

* * *

"CAPTAIN GLEDIUS, SLOWLY PUT DOWN THE AXE AND STEP AWAY FROM THE OGRESS," a bullhorn sounded, stunning everybody in the stadium into silence.

Gledius, axe raised and ready to strike, looked back in the direction of the sound – which was from the tall podium where he had so recently stood. He saw Beaglely standing there now, a bullhorn in his right hand, looking almost casually down at the scene playing itself out below him. The clock continued to chime the remaining strokes of noon as the people in the stands gathered in the unexpected scene before them.

"I – I am simply carrying out the legal sentence, Mr. Beaglely," Gledius shouted back up, trying to regain some of his composure, "And aren't you confused about my title?"

"No, sir, I am not," Beaglely replied, again through the bullhorn, "But you are no longer Governor, and the sentence is now null and void."

Gledius's eyes widened. "WHAT?!" he shouted, his voice cracking slightly.

"The sentence called for the execution of 'Fiona, Queen of Duloc' and her confidants. As of the stroke of noon, Queen Fiona had officially resigned her crown, as per prearrangement in a document she signed prior to her arrest. Thus there IS no longer a 'Queen Fiona' to be executed. And if there is no queen, then there are no queen's confidants."

Gledius's jaw dropped, but not the axe. "That's legal double-speak!" he shouted up at the little man.

"No, sir, it is part of the new Constitution of Duloc," he said, and lifted his left hand, which grasped the document that he and Fiona had spent so much effort on the night before. "As of noon, the monarchy in Duloc is dissolved. It is now a democracy, and has no provisions for a military dictatorship such as provided by the former 'Military Governor' clause. You are hereby remanded to your former rank of Captain of the Guards."

"A DEMOCRACY?!" Gledius laughed. "With THESE lemmings? Are you MAD? These people couldn't find their way of a wet paper bag without someone there to tell them … how …" Gledius bit his lip as he heard the increased murmuring and noticed the caustic stares being sent his direction by more and more of the people in the stands. He quickly changed tacks. "And why didn't you TELL me about this little 'Constitution' of yours before now? The ogress's little speech was the first I'd heard of it."

"You didn't ask," Beaglely shrugged.

Gledius's eyes blazed with anger. "So, if I am but 'Captain' again, who is the leader of this – this 'democracy' of yours?" he spat.

"That would be me," a third voice answered.

Gledius swung his gaze to the voice's origin. Mayor Milquest was now on the stadium ground, standing beside Maximus. The mayor raised one not entirely steady finger toward Gledius. "Captain, you are n-now under my command. I order you to drop that axe and leave the q– the princess alone."

Gledius stared at the mayor in shock. The piggish politician was actually trying to give HIM an order! The captain looked beside Milquest to Maximus, expecting support. But the lieutenant looked from Beaglely over to Milquest, then back to Gledius. After a moment Maximus said, "You'd better do as you're ordered … Captain, sir."

Gledius gaped. The stadium crowd fell silent. The axe started to waver. As it did so, Gledius's eyes wandered from the lieutenant down to the helpless Fiona below him. From the part of her face that he could see, he saw one eye slanted up towards him, and the part of her mouth that he could make out was curled in a smile. But it was not a pleasant smile. It was a smile of triumph. It was a smile Gledius could not stand.

Gledius's own lips curled in fury and he raised the axe again. Fiona's smile vanished.

The crowd again gasped, but their gasp was overridden by Milquest's loud, "CAPTAIN! I SAID DROP THAT AXE!"

Gledius looked back at Milquest. The axe remained at its zenith. "And what if I DON'T?" the captain challenged.

Milquest stared at Gledius for a moment. The captain's eyes were wide and wild. It was occurring to Milquest that the man was not totally sane anymore. The mayor turned to Maximus. "Lieutenant?" he said, part questioning, part imploring, and part ordering.

Maximus did not look back at Milquest. Instead, he too continued to stare at Gledius for a few seconds. Maximus's lips were pursed and his face reflected a brief inner conflict. Then the lieutenant looked at the guards on the wagon. The closest were still a few feet from Gledius, and if they rushed him it would be too easy for the captain, in his current rash state, to strike with the axe before they reached him. Maximus then looked up at the circle of crossbowmen around the stadium – and shook his head. It was obvious that if any were to attempt a shot, it would be too easy to miss and hit Fiona. At last the lieutenant turned to one of his guards a few yards away, one who was also carrying a crossbow, and signaled to him. The guard rushed over and Maximus took the crossbow. He quickly cocked it and took aim at Gledius's exposed chest just ten yards away. "Drop the axe, Captain," Maximus said, his tone somewhere between command and plead.

If Gledius had looked unstable before, the expression that his face assumed now wiped away the remaining shreds of sanity. He began to speak, his voice on the verge of laughter that held no mirth. "Why, lieutenant! I'm disappointed by both your disloyalty and your gullibility! But if I am to be the last defender of Duloc from this monstrous coup – or should I say, MONSTERS' coup – so be it!" Maximus did not respond, but neither did he lower the crossbow. Gledius's eyes narrowed, and he continued, "Lieutenant, I do believe that even if you were to fire that thing, I would still be able to complete my axe-stroke, even if it were to be, so to speak, the last thing I did. It IS poised now, is it not? Even in the off-chance that your aim were so true that your bolt were to instantly … incapacitate me and I were simply to drop the axe, the tool could still do some serious damage to your precious ogress, could it not?"

Maximus did not lower his crossbow, but the focus of his vision did shift briefly from the bead he had drawn on Gledius's chest to the oh-so-sharp blade that was poised above his former queen.

"TOSS THAT THING ASIDE, NOW!" Gledius suddenly erupted in a voice that bore some of his old command and more than a little madness, his hands tightening even more on the axe handle.

With a sign of frustration and resignation, Maximus lowered his aim and then flung the crossbow aside. It landed with a thud in the sand some fifteen yards directly in front of the wagon. Remarkably, its bow did not break and its bolt did not fire.

Gledius then jerked his head toward the guards on the wagon, who were anxiously watching the scene, their swords at the ready. "TELL THEM TO BACK OFF!" the captain ordered. The guards looked at Maximus. After a brief hesitation, the lieutenant looked back at the guards and gestured with his head for them to move away. They did so, backing away slowly from the drama at the front of the wagon until they had all descended the ramp at the back.

Gledius watched as the guards backed off the wagon, then looked over at Maximus and Milquest, standing anxiously but powerlessly several yards away, then looked up at Beaglely, who stared dispassionately down at the scene from the high podium, bullhorn in his hand but nothing to say. Gledius then looked down at Fiona and saw the fear in her face as she struggled to rise and to free her hands, both struggles bearing no fruit. "Well, your Majesty," Gledius mocked, that dangerously mad look settling into his features, "it appears you've run out of would-be heroes! Now, shall we cut to the chase?"

Gledius was taking last aim at Fiona's neck when Shrek's voice boomed just a few feet from him, "GLEDIUS, WAIT!!"

Startled, Gledius looked over at the ogre. To the captain's relief, he saw that the beast was still on his knees and his hands bound behind him. But at only about six feet away, he was still uncomfortably close. "STAY AWAY, BRUTE, OR I'LL …" again his brandished the axe above Fiona's head.

"Wait, Gledius listen to me – please! Ye don't need to do this!" Shrek implored. But as he did so, with his wide body positioned so that it blocked the captain's view of Donkey behind him, Shrek began gesturing with the fingers of his hands. He pointed back at Donkey, then his fingers made a gesture like teeth biting, and then he pointed up toward the knot in the rope that bound his wrists. At first Shrek heard Donkey made a too-familiar "huh?" sound, and hoped that Gledius did not also hear it. The ogre tried to hide his frustration as he repeated the gestures, all the time speaking to the captain in a loud, plaintive voice. "Please, Gledius, you're making a huge mistake! Okay, I know that maybe ye really, really think that we planned everything from the beginnin' and I know I showed ye a lot of disrespect. But think about what you're doin', man! You'll be guilty of murderin' an innocent woman!"

"WOMAN!" Gledius laughed, near hysterics, "You call this … THING … a WOMAN!"

Fiona's face flushed and her terrified expression was temporarily replaced by one of rage. She again strained at the rope binding her hands, and again it was in vain. But then Shrek felt Donkey's lips brush his own hands and then felt the equine's teeth began nibbling at the knot binding his wrists. It would not be long now, he realized – if he could just distract Gledius a little longer …

"I know what ye mean," the ogre stammered, "she's not much to look at NOW, but think about how pretty she was B'FORE!" Here Shrek tried to ignore the disbelieving gaze Fiona aimed at him with her one exposed eye. "She was a real knockout, wasn't she?"

A look of confusion began to cloud Gledius's face. "Well, yes …" he conceded.

"An' ye know what changed that, Gledius?" Shrek continued, "I did! Me! Ye were right, Gledius! Ye were right all along! But it wasn't HER that did the magic! It was ME! I cast a spell an' changed her! I did that!"

"You did," Gledius echoed dully, his gaze dropping back down at Fiona's helpless figure.

"But I can change her back, Gledius!" Shrek continued. "Let us go, and I promise I'll change her back to the way she was b'fore! An' then you can marry her, Gledius! I mean, you'll have rescued her from a life spent – well, like THAT! She'll be OBLIGED to marry ye, right?"

Gledius looked at Fiona's face. She had caught on to what Shrek was trying to do, and tried to muster as much sincerity into her voice as she could as she looked back up at the captain and said meekly and helplessly, "Yes, please, please kind sir, help me … help me … I would be SO grateful …"

Gledius's resolve appeared to fade, and he began to lower the axe. Then, suddenly, his eyes hardened and his lip curled back into a sneer. "TEMPTRESS!" he shouted. "BOTH OF YOU! YOU THINK I'M A FOOL!! BUT NOW YOU'LL THINK NO MORE!!"

The last vestiges of sanity fled from Gledius's face as he once more brought the axe up and prepared to strike amidst renewed screams of terror from the crowd. At the same time, however, there was a "snap" behind Shrek's back as Donkey bit through the last bit of knot. The ogre lunged forward as Gledius swung downward. Shrek swiped at the blade desperately, and his hand struck the side of the axe's head, knocking it off-track and out of Gledius's hands. It missed Fiona's head by a couple of inches and buried itself in the middle of the basket below.

"You did it! Shrek, you did it!" Donkey yelled with glee as Fiona sighed with relief and let her body slump in place.

The crowd let go with a collective sigh of relief and a few began applauding. But that also lapsed into silence as they saw the new scene building. Gledius now stood beside the chopping block, staring down in disbelief at now-empty hands and the safe albeit still bound figure of Fiona. Then he steadily found himself being engulfed in shadow as Shrek slowly rose to his full height in front of him. Gledius's eyes wordlessly drifted away from Fiona and began travelling up the full figure of the ogre. Then they finally reached his face, and beheld a look of barely restrained fury that the captain could only recall from his worst nightmares. Then one of the ogre's eyes began twitching uncontrollably, and a rumble began building in his throat. Gledius's own expression changed into one of total terror. He at last opened his mouth to say something, but his words were literally choked off as Shrek's right hand flew forward and grabbed the former governor around his throat. Shrek, his face twisted with rage and disgust, then lifted Gledius off the ground, his hand slowly tightening around the captain's throat as the human coughed and sputtered and struggled helplessly at what progressively seemed to be turning into a deathgrip.

"Shrek," Donkey ventured dubiously, "uh, what're ya doin'?" Shrek ignored him.

"Release him, ogre!" Maximus ordered, moving forward and drawing his sword. He stopped a few feet from the front of the wagon and said, his voice softer, "Ogre … Shrek … we will handle him. Release him … please." Shrek ignored him also as he continued to stare at the reddening face of the struggling man.

"Shrek, let him go!" Fiona said, her voice firm.

Shrek looked back at her. "He tried t'kill ye!" the ogre growled, "He's a would-be murderer!"

"Yes, but you're not!" Fiona replied. "You know that! I couldn't love you so if you were!"

Shrek looked back at the pitiful figure still dangling from his hand. The ogre's rage seemed to lessen somewhat, but his grip remained firm.

"Please! Shrek!" Fiona implored. "Let him go!"

"Yes! Lemme go! Lemme go!" Gledius managed to sputter in crazed panic as he continued to futilely pull at the ogre's grip.

Shrek's hard eyes continued to stare at the squirming villain in his grasp as he tried to ignore Fiona's pleas. Then Shrek noticed the desperation and helplessness in the human's face as Gledius stared back at him in horror, and Shrek's features softened briefly. He forced them to look hard again and a half-growl, half-sigh rumbled from the ogre's throat as he pulled Gledius closer to him until their faces were virtually touching. Shrek studied the terrified human's face a moment longer, and then in a low deep snarl said, "Get lost." Shrek then flung Gledius away. The captain flew over Maximus's head and landed with a grunt in a heap some ten yards in front of the wagon.

The crowd gasped, and then cheered again. Gledius moaned from a few bruises and having his breath knocked out of him from his short flight, but otherwise seemed physically okay.

Shrek looked down at Fiona. "Happy?" he asked, sounding irritated.

"Very," She replied with some relief, smiling back.

"You've got a real bleedin' heart, y'know that, Fi?"

"No, I'm not bleeding from anywhere … thanks to you," she replied wryly.

Shrek growled and tried to frown, but Fiona's amused "I can see through you look" caused one corner of his mouth to break into an involuntary grin.

Meanwhile, Gledius, gasping for air, struggled to his knees. He pointed toward the wagon. "Lieuten-- Lieutenant!" he managed to say, "Arrest them!"

Maximus looked back at Gledius and stared thoughtfully at the captain for a few moments. Then he turned and took the few steps towards the base of the wagon, his sword still drawn. The two ogres watched him curiously and cautiously. As he reached the wagon base he looked up and addressed Shrek. "Ogre!"

"Aye?" Shrek said warily.

Maximus looked down at his sword. Then he turned it carefully and held it up to Shrek, handle first. "You might find this useful," he said.

Shrek smiled and took the sword. "Thank ye," he said. Maximus gave a short bow.

Shrek then turned his attention to Fiona. He quickly cut the rope that held down her head and then sliced through the knot that bound her wrist. Then he tossed the sword back carefully to Maximus, who astutely caught it in the air by its handle and quickly sheathed it. Shrek grinned and nodded toward the lieutenant, who nodded back. Maximus then looked up at the ring of crossbowmen atop the stadium. "STAND DOWN!" he ordered. "THERE'LL BE NO KILLING HERE TODAY!" The crowd cheered him as the crossbowmen dropped their aim and uncocked their weapons.

Shrek helped Fiona to her feet as she rubbed one of her sore wrists with a hand. "Are ye all right?" he asked.

"I think so," she said, then looked up into his eyes. "No. I know so. Now." She smiled. "Will you never cease to come to my rescue?"

"Not if I kin help it, m'lady" he replied, "the rewards're too great."

Fiona raised a bemused eyebrow. "My! You're even starting to TALK like a knight!" she said. "Perhaps there's a Prince Charming in there after all."

"I've been called a lotta things, Fi," Shrek replied, "but 'charmin' ain't one of 'em. An' don't expect me t'be changin' into one!"

Fiona reached up and stroked his right cheek with her left hand. "I wouldn't change a thing," she said.

Shrek smiled, but then his expression grew more uncomfortable. "Uh, Fiona," he murmured, "about the things I was sayin' about ye when Gledius had the axe … ye know that I didn't mean –"

She reached up with her other hand, covered his lips with her fingertips, and made a shushing sound. "I know," she said softly, "it's okay. I know what you were doing."

Shrek took the hand that she held on his mouth, kissed it, then said, "Well, for the record, I wanna let ye know that you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in the whole world, just as ye are now, whatever idiots like that Gledius think."

She smiled a not entirely convinced smile and said, "You're very sweet to say that."

"I say it 'cause it's true!" he proclaimed.

She looked down shyly. "I'm afraid you may need to keep telling me that for a while," she confessed.

"Every day. With pleasure," the ogre said, and kissed her hand again.

Fiona looked up at Shrek again and offered another smile. Then she blushed and shifted her gaze away – and found herself looking down at Donkey, who was patiently standing there, watching the scene before him with an amused smile. "Hey don't let me stop ya!" Donkey said. "I'm just enjoyin' the show!"

"It's a show that would be canceled now if it weren't for you!" Fiona said buoyantly. Then she kneeled down in front of Donkey and stroked the side of his head with her hand, then said softly and sincerely, "You are a truly noble steed … and a wonderful and brave friend."

"Ah, shucks, twern't nothin'," Donkey said, somewhat embarrassed. "I was gettin' hungry anyway, an' I need more fiber in my diet."

"Nevertheless," Fiona said, smiling, "thank you." She then leaned over and gave donkey a kiss on the snout.

"Ahhh…" Donkey gushed, then blushed and looked away.

Fiona giggled, then stood and faced Shrek again. "Now, I think you said something about wanting to sell me some swampland, or something like that?"

"Somethin' like that," Shrek agreed, smiling back. "Ye ready t'go?"

"Almost," she said, her eyes wandering over beside the chopping block. "But first … I need to get a keepsake."

Shrek raised a curious eyebrow as Fiona wandered over by the chopping block and began to look around for something. The ogre shook his head. He had never understood women. It was a misgiving he thought he would never have to worry about. Now it looked like he'd thought wrong. And he smiled as he mulled over THAT upcoming adventure.

While Fiona hunted her "keepsake," Shrek turned and now also kneeled in front of Donkey, and the equine looked at the ogre with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. "Donkey," Shrek said quietly, looking into his friend's face, "thanks. We owe you everythin'. Again." The ogre stuck out his large right hand.

Donkey looked down at Shrek's extended hand, and then up at his friend's face. Relief washed over him and he smiled a broad, toothy grin. "Ah, that's okay," Donkey said, "that's what friends are for!" Donkey then laid his front right hoof in Shrek's hand and the ogre shook it gently but firmly.

Meanwhile, as Fiona, Shrek and Donkey were exchanging pleasantries on the wagon, Maximus had approached the still kneeling figure of Gledius. The lieutenant stopped just in front of the captain and looked placidly down at the angry, frightened man. Gledius, still panting looked up at Maximus, his eyes ablaze. "You're a fool!" the captain gasped. "A traitor to your species!"

Maximus waited a few seconds, and then replied calmly. "A fool? Perhaps. I was certainly a fool when I listened to you. But a traitor to my species? I don't know about that. I do know, however, that you are a traitor to Duloc. And to do my duty, that's all I really do need to know. The rest … I would rather leave to God to sort out. And may he forgive me for allowing myself to be blinded so long by you." Maximus then turned away from the pitiful, crouching figure and gestured to a couple of sword-wielding guards a few yards away. "Arrest that man," he said simply, indicating Gledius, and began walking away.

The guards began slowly walking toward their former captain to make the arrest. Gledius, furious and frightened, looked down in despair, and felt tears begin welling in his eyes. But out of the corner of one of those eyes he noticed – lying forgotten in the sand only a few feet away – the cocked crossbow that Maximus had cast aside and now had overlooked. Well, Gledius thought, his young protégé might otherwise be efficient, but it seemed he was not … perfect. A horrid idea quickly sprang into Gledius's mind. He swung his gaze back to the wagon. He saw the ogress leaning down somewhere around the chopping block, partially obstructed from his line of sight, and moving about as if searching for something. But the ogre was on one knee, facing away from Gledius, and seemed relatively stationary. His broad back made a very alluring target.

Things happened very rapidly over the next few seconds. Gledius dove for the crossbow. The guards, suddenly realizing what was going on, quit their stead gait and began to run – but it was too late for them to prevent Gledius from getting off a quick shot. But as Gledius swung the crossbow up and took aim at the middle of Shrek's back, Fiona rose, holding in her hands a strand of rope. And as she stood, her face quickly changed from a subtle smile to grimace of horror as she saw Gledius and realized where he was aiming. She also realized there was no time to reach Shrek himself, and so, without thinking, Fiona quickly jumped over so that she stood between Shrek's back and Gledius's aim. For a split second Gledius was upset that his target was blocked, but then quickly realized what the ogress was doing and felt overjoyed at the replacement. If the foolish female was in a sacrificial mood, he was more than happy to oblige. He shifted his aim ever so slightly so that Fiona's bosom was in his sights, and then pulled the crossbow's trigger. The bolt flew from its shaft just before Gledius was bowled over by twin flying tackles from the two guards – but he went down smiling, knowing that his vengeance was literally darting its way towards his inhuman nemesis. Fiona closed her eyes and held her arms outward from her sides, expecting the deadly missile to pierce her chest. Then, as the bolt was midway through its spit-second flight, something struck it, knocking it off-course. The bolt buried itself with a "thunk" into the wood of the chopping block. The crowd, which had barely had time to start to scream when it saw what Gledius was about to do, now let out a collective sigh.

Fiona opened her eyes and looked down to where she heard the bolt land. Shrek leaped to his feet with a confused "What the devil?!" and turned to see what was the matter, and suddenly found himself having to catch Fiona, who half-fainted backwards into his arms. Confused, he then followed her gaze down to where he saw a crossbow bolt buried in the chopping block, its partially broken shaft having been pierced by an arrow.

"Ah-ha! A bulls-eye, n'est pas?!" cried a familiar French-accented voice. Everyone turned to see Monsieur Hood, his upper body poking out of a hole in the ground that had just appeared a few feet in front of the stands. In one arm he held aloft the bow from which he had just shot the life-saving arrow. The crowd broke into applause and cheering and Hood, warming to the occasion, gave several short bows. Then he turned to where Fiona, having overcome her moment of light-headedness, stood with Shrek. "Your Majesty," Hood said, taking his cap off and bowing deeply and theatrically.

"Monsieur," Fiona said in acknowledgment, nodding her head. "I am in your debt, kind sir. You are a true hero. You … do France proud."

Hood looked up and saw Fiona wink a clandestine little wink. Hood grinned. But his grin quickly faded as he suddenly began to wobble within the hole. From within the pit a gruff, grumpy voice yelled, "WILL YOU GET OFF MY SHOULDERS NOW, YOU FRICKIN' FRENCHY?!"

"Oh, pardon moi, mes amis!" Hood called down, and began to pull himself the rest of the way up out of the hole.

As Hood crawled out, Shrek looked over to beside the chopping block to where Fiona had been looking around when he'd turned his back on her, to where she was standing now, to where Gledius had been when he shot his bolt. Then realization dawned on his face and his jaw dropped. "Fiona," he said, "did you …"

"Did I what?" she asked innocently.

Shrek smiled and shook his head. "Fi, ye almost killed me."

Fiona looked back at him, confused. She certainly hadn't anticipated THAT remark. "What?" she asked, incredulous.

"Knowin' that you'd given your life up for me," Shrek replied, "it woulda killed me."

Fiona stared back at him for a moment, and then her face broke into a wide smile. "You're so sweet!" she said, and reached up to stoke his cheek.

"I wouldn't go THAT far," the ogre said, frowning. Then he noticed the piece of rope that hung from Fiona's hand. "What's that?" he asked.

"Oh," she said, turning her attention to the rope, "this is what was tying my neck down. I want it as a keepsake."

"THAT'S the keepsake ye was lookin' for?" Shrek asked.

"Um-hum," she replied.

Shrek shook his head. "I guess I've got a lot to learn about women," he muttered.

"Well!" Fiona said, her face brightening, "I'll be glad to be your tutor! In fact, I've got a whole curriculum planned!"

Shrek looked into Fiona's eyes and saw a playful little glimmer there. They then exchanged shrewd little smiles.

Meanwhile, Milquest wandered over to where Maximus stood and whispered, "Please don't arrest Hood, Lieutenant. I think I've got pardon powers and, by God, I'm going to use them on that man. In fact, I'm going to try to pardon his whole blasted band!"

"Actually, sir," Maximus replied, "I really wasn't planning to re-arrest him. In fact, if you ordered me to do so, I'd have to refuse and resign my commission … on principle."

Milquest patted Maximus on the shoulder. "Good man!" he said, "You're beginning to think for yourself. It's something we all need to do. Something we need to get used to. Of course, I don't know if that'll work out all that well with the military, but what the hey!"

"Besides," Maximus said, watching as the two guards led Gledius away, "it looks like the jailkeep's going to have enough trouble with our new star prisoner as it is."

As Maximus spoke, Gledius ranted crazily as the two guards, one on either side of him and holding an arm, half-led, half-dragged him away. "NO! THAT COULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED! DON'T YOU SEE? THE PHYSICS … IT'S IMPOSSIBLE! IT'S MAGIC, I TELL YOU! BLACK MAGIC! THEY MUST BE EVIL! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?! NICE THINGS LIKE THAT DON'T HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE!! NOOOOOO!!"

Back on the wagon, Fiona, Shrek and Donkey watched as the former captain and governor, stripped of rank, dignity, and sanity, was led away. Fiona stared after him in disgust for several seconds, but as she watched the broken, wretched shell of a man fading away, her expression softened and she shook her head sadly. "I almost pity him," she sighed.

"Him? That murderous loon?!" Shrek said, and then let out a brief chortle. "Good riddance, I say. The man tried ta murder ye – THRICE, fer Pete's sake! He may be PITIFUL, but I don't PITY him. I think he's a total jacka–" Shrek checked himself as Donkey shot him a reproachful glare. "I mean, total JERK," Shrek concluded. Donkey grinned slyly up at Shrek, who returned it with a wink.

Fiona sighed again. "Perhaps," she conceded. "But thank God that's behind us now. Oh, and speaking of thanking, I think we owe Hood more –" she turned to look for Hood, and then broke off as she saw the bandit. He was surrounded by a group of some half-dozen lovely young maidens, all in fine dresses of various pastel colors and all wearing high conical hennin caps with chiffon veils hanging from their pinnacles. All of the fair damsels were fawning upon the handsome bandit, who self-confidently spread his charm and wit evenly among them with smooth, well-practiced ease. Occasionally one of the maidens would blush and look shyly away at one of his remarks, only a moment later to return her attention to the dashing green-clad stranger, her eyes batting and her breath a little more rapid.

The corners of Fiona's mouth curled down in disapproval and she placed her hands on her hips. "Oh, for the love of Pete!" she muttered in distaste at the saccharine scene. She heard Shrek and Donkey giggle behind her and swiveled around to face them. "What?!" she demanded.

"Oh, nothin', dear," Shrek said, still half-chuckling, "it's just that – well, you're cute when you're cynical."

"I'm not cyn–" Fiona began to object. But she suddenly stopped in mid-sentence, her trumpet ears pricking to attention and pointing skywards, quickly followed by her gaze. "What's that?" she asked, raising both hands to shield her eyes from the noonday sun as she looked upwards.

"What's what?" Donkey asked as he and Shrek followed her gaze skyward, Donkey squinting and Shrek raising one hand to shield his own eyes.

Then they could make it out – something high, high up in the sky flying in what appeared to be random, haphazard patterns. As it flew, though, its elevation began to decrease, and it became recognizable as a figure on a broomstick.

"A witch!" Fiona gasped.

"Which witch?" Donkey asked. "Oh, man, I hope she doesn't start skywritin' somethin' up there. That's a SURE sign'a trouble …"

"No, it's not a witch," Shrek said as the figure got a little closer, "it's a kid!"

"A KID?" Donkey echoed. "You mean there's a baby goat flyin' around up there on a broomstick?! Man, now I've seen everything! I thought it was weird when I saw a cow jump over the moon that time, but a goat on a broomstick –"

"No, no, not a goat," Shrek growled irritably, "a HUMAN kid. A child!"

"It's not just a child," Fiona said, her voice fraught with recognition and fear, "it's Goldilocks!"

"Goldilocks?" Donkey repeated, confused. "You mean the little girl with the flower? What's SHE doin' up there flyin' around on a broomstick?" He paused for a moment, one eye cocked and his lip twisted in puzzlement, then he asked, "They playin' a quidditch game somewhere 'round here today?"

"I don't THINK so," Shrek replied, "I think – oh-oh!"

Shrek cut his statement off and Fiona let go a little shriek as Goldilocks suddenly ceased her haphazard but gradually descending pattern and made a nosedive straight downward toward the center of town. Most other people in the stadium had gradually caught on to what the trio on the wagon were staring at and had also started watching Goldilocks's odd flight, and many of them also gasped when it changed so dramatically. Their human ears were soon able to pick up on what the ogres had heard earlier; the little girl's screams as she got closer and closer, her hands holding tight to the broomstick in abject terror.

It soon became clear she was flying directly toward Farquaad's castle at a very fast rate. "STOP!" they could now hear the girl's horrified cries. "PLEASE!! WHOA!!"

The broom came to a sudden, complete stop in mid air, a few yards from the top of the huge castle. Unfortunately, Goldilocks herself didn't stop; she flew off the broomstick and toward the upper part of the castle wall, screaming. At the last second she desperately reached out and caught hold of a flagpole that was sticking out perpendicular from the castle wall. Her momentum sent her in one full loop around the pole, and then she swung back and forth on it for several seconds until she finally came to a complete stop. There she hung, desperately grasping the pole with her hands, several hundred feet from the ground up the castle wall and only about twenty feet down from the castle's top. She looked down, screamed again, and then started crying.

"SWEET HEAVENS!" Fiona cried, then leapt off of the wagon and sprinted through the gates of the stadium and toward the castle, followed closely by Shrek and Donkey. Close behind them ran Maximus and his band of soldiers. Milquest hurried after the runners as quickly as he could, huffing and puffing with the unaccustomed exercise. So intent was he on forcing his pace that the mayor nearly ran into Donkey, who had stopped at the gateway and was taking the courtyard scene in, one eye cocked and lips curled in apparent contemplation. Milquest paused, fought to catch his breath, and was about to ask Donkey what he was doing when the animal turned and started running back towards the wagon. Milquest shrugged and again began trotting across the courtyard after the ogres and soldiers. Then the citizenry of Duloc began quickly filing down out of their stadium seats, through the gates and into the courtyard after their mayor.


	16. Chapter 14: High Adventure

Chapter 14: High Adventure

Goldilocks clung desperately onto the flagpole, crying. Then she had an idea and looked up to where the broomstick sat motionless in the air, some ten yards away from her. Maybe if she could get it to go again, it would come down and she could get back on. It couldn't be a worse situation than she was in now, anyway. She forced herself to stop crying and shouted at it, "Go!"

The broom went. From total standstill, it suddenly resumed the rapid speed it had been travelling when it had halted in mid-air. However, it also resumed its path – which took it straight into the side of the stone castle. Goldilocks shrieked as the broomstick smashed against the castle wall, the wood splaying apart like the spine an open umbrella, and then tumbled down to the ground below – a fall which seemed to take forever at this height. The little girl watched its downward tumble, and as her eyes reached the ground she noted toward the edge of the courtyard the large red dragon that had been keeping watch the previous night from the top of the church. It was now lying on some type of wooden platform and bound there by heavy chains, its large yellow eyes looking up at her in curiosity. Then Goldilocks saw Fiona racing into the courtyard, followed closely by Shrek and then some soldiers, and behind them a man that she recognized as some local big-wig, and then behind him it looked like the rest of Duloc was filing into view. And they were all beholding the spectacle that she was making of herself. So much for being a rescuer, she thought to herself, and began to cry again.

* * *

Fiona stopped at the base of the castle and tired to catch her breath as she looked up at the suspended little girl. The pole the girl clung to was attached to the wall just below a window, but Goldilocks was more than four feet down the length of the pole away from the window.

"GOLDILOCKS!" Fiona called up as Shrek arrived at her side and looked up at the small girl, "LISTEN TO ME!"

Goldilocks kept crying for a few seconds longer, then slowly her sobs lessened and she looked down at Fiona.

"TRY TO MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE WINDOW!" Fiona called up as Maximus and his soldiers arrived at the ogres' side and also started staring up.

Goldilocks looked over toward the window, still trying to choke back sobs. Then she began to slide the hand closest to the window down the pole. Suddenly the hand slipped off, and hundreds of voices screamed as Goldilocks shrieked herself and hung suspended by one hand for several seconds. Fiona covered her mouth with her hands and her blue eyes bulged. Then Goldilocks was able to swing her free hand back up to its former position on the pole. She now hung there as she had before … and again started to cry, even louder than before.

"GOLDILOCKS!" Fiona called back up again, "DON'T MOVE, SWEETHEART, WE'LL COME GET YOU!" The little girl continued to cling there, still crying, and Fiona didn't know if she'd heard her or not. But at least she wasn't trying to move anymore.

Fiona looked around her. Milquest and many of the various Dulocians had arrived at this point, and were looking up at the spectacle above them. Then she picked out Maximus.

"Lieutenant!" she said, "You have soldiers in that building, right?"

"No, ma'am," Maximus replied.

Fiona blinked. "You don't have ANYBODY in that WHOLE CASTLE?!"

"No," he repeated, "Captain Gledius had ordered everybody to be at the coliseum to witness your execution … to set an example."

Fiona growled deep in her throat for a moment, then turned to Shrek. "You were pretty quick on your feet back in MY castle," she said analytically, "and with your armspan, you may be able to reach out the window and grab her. Try and get up there as fast as you can!"

Shrek nodded, but then frowned. "But once inside, how'll I know which room – heck, which FLOOR – the room with that window is? They all look so much alike –"

"Perhaps I might be of assistance," a cool, familiar voice said from beside the two ogres. Startled, they swung their gaze to the figure of Beaglely.

"Where the blazes did YOU come from?" Shrek said.

"Never mind that," Fiona interrupted. "Mr. Beaglely, how might you help?"

"As you recall, Princess," he said, "I have spent quite a bit of time examining the blueprints for this castle for its eventual conversion into an educational facility. I am relatively confident that, once inside, I can locate the room with that window."

"Great!" Fiona said, then turned to the ogre, "Shrek …"

"I'm on it!" Shrek said, "Come on, Beaglely, let's go!"

With that, the ogre suddenly reached over and grabbed the city manager. Beaglely uttered an unusual cry of surprise as Shrek quickly tucked him under his arm and ran toward the castle door, explaining, "It'll be quicker this way – my stride's wider."

But even as Shrek and Beaglely disappeared into the castle entrance, Goldilocks let go another shriek. Fiona swung her eyes up to the little girl.

Goldilocks was losing her grip, in more ways that one.

"HOLD ON, DARLING! HELP'S ON ITS WAY!" Fiona called up. Again, she wasn't sure if the panicked, crying little girl heard her or not.

Then, unexpectedly, Milquest sprang into action. "You there!" he called to a couple of nearby soldiers and, getting their attention, pointed to a nearby wagon filled with straw, "maneuver that underneath the little girl!"

The soldiers, surprised and confused by the firm order by the formerly obtuse mayor, looked over at Maximus. The lieutenant nodded, and the two soldiers sprung into action.

Fiona looked from the hay wagon, then back up at Goldilocks, then to Milquest, who also was looking up at the little girl, his face fixed with resolution. It was a look she had never seen on him, and it was with some disappointment that she felt she had to say, "That's a wonderful thought, Mayor, but at that height – I don't think it will make any difference."

"We've got to try SOMETHING else," he said, still watching Goldilocks, "I don't think she can hold on long enough for your companion to climb all those stairs to reach her."

Fiona, reluctantly, had to nod sad agreement. But what else could …

Then she thought of Dragon.

Fiona whirled to see the great chained animal several yards away, staring at her – a look that still gave Fiona a little chill. But then Dragon glanced up at Goldilocks then back to Fiona – and a little grin appeared at the corner of Dragon's mouth – a mouth whose snout was itself chained shut so as to prevent her from using her fiery breath.

Fiona ran over to Dragon. "Can you get her?!" the ogress asked excitedly.

Dragon shrugged … and rattled her chains to emphasize her confinement.

Fiona whiled back the other way – and found herself standing face-to-face with Maximus.

"Release her!" she ordered.

"No," he said.

Fiona blinked. "What?" was all she could say.

Maximus drew is sword and pointed at Dragon. "Unlike you and your companions," he said, "we KNOW that this beast is a killer. We know of many knights who, over the years, she has vanquished. Knights who, incidentally, were trying to save YOU, your highness."

"But … but …" Fiona stammered, then thought of something. "Don't you SEE? Dragon was under a different form of the same spell that I was!"

Both Maximus and Dragon cocked an eyebrow, the former in incredulity, the latter in bemusement.

"Besides," Fiona continued, "they were attacking her in her own home, trying to kill HER! At worst, she was only trying to defend herself!"

Chains rattled as Dragon pursed her lips and nodded, buying some (but not all) of that argument. But Maximus just continued to stare at the ogress. "You're beginning to sound like Mr. Beaglely," the lieutenant said.

"At least Mr. Beaglely is trying to save HER!" Fiona said angrily, then turned and pointed up to Goldilocks, who was trying to maintain her loosening grip. "You can do the same, by freeing Dragon! I know that, now that the spell is broken, and there is no longer a need to invade her castle, that Dragon will never harm another human ever again." Fiona turned and addressed the reptilian. "WILL you, Dragon?" Fiona asked, her eyes pleading.

Dragon looked back at Fiona, a look of amusement on her face.

"WILL YOU?" Fiona repeated, mimicking the stomping of her foot and shooting Dragon a wide-eyed agitated look, grateful that Maximus had continued to stare at Goldilocks and had not turned to see Dragon's initial reaction nor Fiona's unspoken pleas. But now the lieutenant did turn around, and as he did so Dragon's face assume a contrite, remorseful expression as she shook her head in response to Fiona's question, agreeing that no, she would never slay another human ever again.

Maximus sighed. "Perhaps you're right. But it doesn't much matter."

"What do you mean?" Fiona asked, confused.

"There are no locks to these chains," Maximus said, gesturing with his sword. "For safely, we simply bolted all the chains to the blocks that border the platform." Here he tapped one of the thick wooden blocks where the chain was bolted into it. "Unless …" he said, trailing off. Then he lifted his sword and took two quick and powerful chops at the wood near where the chain was bolted. The strokes left indentations, but only two or three inches. "It's no good," he said, "there's not enough time –"

"Wou' 'hish hel," a muffled voice said a couple of paces behind them. Fiona and Maximus turned to see Donkey, dragging the sharp, heavy executioner's axe, the tip of its handle held firm in his mouth. He spit it out, smacked his lips and then explained, "I saw what was goin' on and figured this might come in handy."

"Indeed!" Maximus said, hefting the axe as Fiona looked down at Donkey and beamed.

"Donkey, you're brilliant!" she beamed.

Donkey shrugged self-consciously. "I got my moments," he conceded semi-self consciously.

Meanwhile, Maximus stood with the axe at the ready – and then seemed to think again. He looked at Dragon, who stared back at him, her expression apparently neutral but with an odd, disconcerting glimmer in her eye. It gave him pause, as the scene of their earlier encounter flashed through his mind. He remembered the terrible fear, fear that he had never experienced before. He remembered the way she had not only filled him with that fear, but had humiliated him, turned the pride of his profession into a laughing stock as she waited for him to flail futilely at the smoke-shrouded air as she lay nearby, mocking him. Then he remembered those glistening white teeth as she was about to –

Then he heard Goldilocks scream again.

Shaking his head, pushing everything aside with a great mental heave, he brought the axe down on the wood, cleaving several inches. Then again. Then again. Meanwhile, Dragon pushed up against the chain, pulling the connection from above. Eventually there was a crack, and that part of the chain webbing came free. Dragon tried to rise up, but although she had more movement, she was not quite free.

"One more of the bolts ought to do it," Maximus said, then Goldilocks gave a particularly loud scream and everyone looked back up as the crowd gasped. One of the exhausted girl's hands had let go again, and this time she seemed not able to make the effort to reach back up. Only one hand now secured her to the pole.

"Quick, give me that!" Fiona cried, grabbing the axe from the stunned lieutenant. Then, with her ogress's strength augmented by desperation, she struck at the wood around another bolt. Her stroke went more than twice as deep as Maximus's had. She struck quickly again, and again, as Dragon got one of her paw/hands around the chain just above the bolt and pulled. And then suddenly the bolt broke free.

Her paws free, Dragon pulled the chain from off her snout and with a great roar of triumph rose to her full standing height, shrugging the remaining raiment of chains from off her back. Many in the crowd shrieked or gasped and stepped back from the fearful sight. Dragon looked at them disdainfully for a moment, then her gaze swung up to where Goldilocks hung.

"You go, girl!" Donkey called up. "Spotlight dance!"

Dragon looked down at Donkey and smiled warmly. Then her gaze shifted to Maximus, and her warm smile morphed into one of slyness. She winked at the lieutenant, and he felt his blood freeze. But then Dragon shifted her gaze once again up toward the little girl. Then the great beast spread her wings.

* * *

The room just above the flagpole where Goldilocks hung was quiet and peaceful. Then a sound came from the door as the knob was tried. It was locked. A moment latter a much louder sound erupted through the room and the wooden slats of the door bucked inward briefly as something heavy pounded against it from without. Then the same thing happened again, and then again as, the third time, the lock broke and the door caved in. Shrek tumbled into the room, sweating profusely and breathing in great gasps following his race up the many, many, many stairs leading up the tower. Beaglely followed him, not breathing very heavy at all as he had been carried most of the way. The city manager raced past the prostrate ogre's form to the window.

"Quickly!" he called back, "She's hanging by one hand now!"

Shrek forced himself up and half-sprinted, half-lumbered to the window. He reached it just in time to see the girl, at the end of her own strength, let go.

"NOOOO!" Shrek cried, and leaned out the window. For a brief, horrified moment he saw Goldilocks in free-fall toward the courtyard below. But then, suddenly, Dragon appeared. The great beast quickly closed in on the falling little girl – then opened her mouth, let the girl fall in, and then closed her mouth on her. Dragon continued flying, past the castle, and into the distance.

Shrek felt his jaw drop. He stood there, silent, for several moments.

"Well," Beaglely offered, "it HAS been quite a while since the dragon fed. She was probably working on instinct."

* * *

As Dragon snatched Goldilocks into her mouth and disappeared around the castle, Fiona started to scream, and again quickly covered her mouth with her hands to choke it off. Many in the crowd did not show such restraint, and the courtyard was filled with screams and gasps, and several people fainted. Meanwhile, Maximus shot a venomous look Fiona's way. "So, the dragon was just defending herself, eh?" he mocked, "She'll never eat another human, eh?"

Fiona looked down, shocked, ashamed, and unable to speak. She considered pointing out that the girl would have died anyway from the fall, but that didn't seem to be a particularly winning argument right now.

"I swear," Maximus said, staring off to where Dragon had disappeared and shaking his fist, "I will hunt that beast down and kill it if it is the last thing I do!"

Donkey's ears drooped as he bowed his head and kicked weekly at a pebble on the ground. "Jus' when ya think ya get to know someone," he muttered. Then he glanced upwards, and then his head sprang to attention and his ears perked up. "Hey!" he called excitedly, "Incoming bandit at ten o'clock!"

Fiona looked over at him. "What did you say?" she asked, still somewhat in a daze.

"Up there!" Donkey replied, jerkily pointing with his nose.

Fiona and Maximus followed Donkey's gesture. In the sky they saw what appeared to be yet another figure riding on a broom heading toward them. But this broom was leaving in its wake several puffs of black smoke. As it grew nearer they could see that there were actually two figures on the broom. As they came in for a landing at the base of the castle near where Fiona stood, she could see that the lead figure and apparent "driver" was the witch that had accosted them the previous night. Sitting on the stick behind her and holding onto the witch's torso for dear life was another woman wearing old careworn clothes and a motorcycle helmet.

The landing was not particularly elegant. As they descended within a couple of feet of the ground, the witch yelled out "WHOA!," but the broom continued to move along the ground in hesitant jerks. The witch stretched out her feet and began dragging them in the dirt, yelling out "WHOA! I said WHOA, DAGNABBIT!" Eventually they skidded to a stop a few feet away from Fiona and Maximus. The broom continued to vibrate, make distressed rumbling noises, and spew puffs of black smoke as the witch dismounted and then helped the other woman off. Then the broom gave a final gasp and spewed a particularly large cloud of acrid black smoke which engulfed the witch, Fiona, and several other people in the vicinity, sending them all into coughing fits. As the air cleared the witch kicked the now idle broom and said with disgust, "Blasted rental!"

The witch's former passenger took her helmet off to reveal a lined face and graying, disheveled hair. She took a moment to digest the scene around her, noted the ogress in the worn wedding dress with surprise and suspicion, and then recognized Maximus in his officer's uniform. She ran to him and implored, "Oh, sir, could you please help me? I'm looking for my daughter, Goldilocks! You recall the little girl you brought back to us last night –"

"Yes, I – I know the little girl," Maximus said, shifting uncomfortably and treating Fiona to another accusatory glance.

The old woman's face brightened. "Oh, good! I'm sorry, but she ran away again last night, and we believe she was heading here. Has anyone seen her?"

Maximus's lips pursed, and he looked down, avoiding the woman's hopeful gaze. Fiona did the same. An uneasy silence fell across the people as they did likewise, shifting uncomfortably.

The old woman looked around, confused, and a growing alarm starting to show in her face. "What's wrong?" she asked, "why is everybody –"

"WHOA!" Donkey suddenly exclaimed, "Incoming Dragon, eleven o'clock!"

Everyone's gaze shifted up to where Donkey was looking. Indeed, Dragon was flying back towards into the courtyard, specifically toward where the witch, woman, Fiona, Maximus, Milquest, and Donkey all stood. Many people in the crowd screamed yet again and started to run, fearful that Dragon was not quite through with her meal. But Maximus gulped, struck a ready pose with his sword, and steeled himself.

Dragon landed with an earth-shaking thump a few yards away from the principals. Goldilocks's mother screamed in fear, but the witch just rested her hands on her hips and said, "Well! And I thought I knew how to make an entrance!"

"ALL RIGHT, YOU MURDEROUS BEAST," Maximus called up, forcing bravado into his voice, "THE TIME HAS COME AND THE DIE IS CAST! LET US END THIS NOW!" The lieutenant brandished his sword, and gulped again.

Dragon looked down at Maximus in amused silence for a few moments, then shook her head dismissively and turned her attention to the others. Her eyes lit on Goldilocks's mother who stared back at her, terrified.

"THAT'S THE MOTHER OF THE POOR GIRL YOU DEVOURED, HEINOUS MONSTER!" Maximus called.

Goldilocks's mother looked over at Maximus, her eyes wide with terror. "WHAT?!" he gasped.

Maximus looked over at her and bit his lip. "Oops," he said.

Dragon rolled her eyes and shook her head again, and then lowered her head to the ground. Then she opened her mouth and unrolled her tongue like a carpet. As it reached its full extension, off the tip rolled Goldilocks, covered in the Dragon's saliva but otherwise unharmed.

As everyone signed in relief and Dragon raised her head back up, Goldilocks stood up, looked at her drenched self, wrinkled her nose in distaste and said, "Ewww! I've been slimed!"

"Oh, my girl!" Goldilocks's mother said, dropping to her knees as relief washed over her.

"Mommy!" Goldilocks cried out in return, flinging herself into her mother's arms and hugging her tightly. Her mother returned the hug, oblivious to the wetness that now soaked them both.

Everyone then broke out in applause and cheers. Dragon looked around, surprised at the unaccustomed adulation being sent her way by this flock of humans, some of which she couldn't help but notice looked quite tender and juicy.

Donkey stepped forward and looked up at her. "Way to go, Babe!" he said, "I never doubted ya for a second!"

Dragon smiled at him, then looked over at Fiona, who was smiling weakly up at her. Dragon gave her a wink, causing Fiona to utter a wry chuckle and shake her head. Fiona then let her gaze drift beside her, where Maximus was still staring up at Dragon. But now the lieutenant's mouth was agape and silent. He still held his sword at an upright angle and at the ready for a few seconds more, but then he slowly lowered it to the ground, all the time staring up at Dragon.

"Well, Lieutenant?" Fiona said, resting her hands on her hips and allowing a little "I told you so" attitude to creep into her voice.

Maximus slowly looked over at her, his expression dull confusion. "Well," he reiterated, then looked down at the ground. "Well … well …" he continued to repeat, now to himself, as he seemed deep in contemplation, trying to sort out everything he was experiencing. Then, with sudden resolution, he looked back up at Dragon, his eyes sharp and alert. "WELL DONE, DRAGON!" he called up, raised his sword, and bowed deeply in a salute.

Dragon cocked an eyebrow in surprise, then bowed her head to Maximus in acknowledgement. The Dulocians then let loose with another cheer. Dragon looked around, smiled and bowed her head to them. She seemed to be growing pleasantly enamored with such a response from creatures who she formerly used to derive so much pleasure from enticing abject terror.

As the crowd cheered, Donkey wandered over to Fiona, nodded up to Dragon and whispered, "Ya think this'll last?"

"Oh, I don't know," Fiona whispered back. "They say that laughter's ten times more powerful than screams. Maybe the same can be said of adulation and fear."

"EXCUSE me," the witch interrupted, "but there's the little matter of a missing broomstick?"

"Oh, I'm so terribly sorry!" Goldilocks said, "I – I – " The little girl then gestured to the splintered remains of the broomstick laying at the base of the castle.

"Oh, just GREAT," the witch muttered, then mumbled something to herself as she approached the broomstick. She picked it up, one hand holding the top of the crumpled stick and the other the base where the whisk began, then with a sudden jerk she pulled it in either direction and then, like magic, she was holding and entirely whole, undamaged broom. A few in the crowd oo'ed and ah'ed at the display. The witch looked around and one corner of her mouth cracked a smile. "Hey!" she said, "If you like that trick, you should see me at parties!"

"Oh, speaking of parties!" Fiona said, then turned to face the Dulocian crowd. "CITIZENS OF DULOC!" she shouted, her voice carrying across the courtyard and beyond, "I'D JUST LIKE YOU TO KNOW THAT SHREK AND I ARE ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED … AND YOU'RE ALL INVITED!"

The courtyard let loose with cheers and applause. Fiona beamed as Milquest stepped forward. "Congratulations, Your Highness," he said, bowing. "And when is this joyous event scheduled to occur?"

Fiona thought for a moment, then she broke into a wide grin as an idea came into her mind. She

addressed the crowd again. "WE'RE GOING TO BE MARRIED IN SHREK'S SWAMP … TONIGHT … AT SUNSET!"

The courtyard let loose with more cheers and applause, which was interrupted as Shrek, looking down from the window high up in the castle, bellowed down, "FIONA!"

She turned and looked up at him.

"WHAT?" she called up.

"AREN'T YE HURRIN' THINGS A BIT, WOMAN?" he called down.

"WHY WAIT?" she called back. "UNLESS … ARE YOU GETTING COLD FEET?"

"OH, MY FEET'S FINE. BUT MY SWAMP'S TOO FAR FOR THESE PEOPLE TO REACH BY SUNSET."

Fiona thought for a moment, then turned to the crowd. "PEOPLE! NEW PLAN!" she called out. "THE WEDDING WILL BE … TOMORROW AT SUNSET!"

Another cheer went up as Fiona looked back up at Shrek and smiled mischievously. He just smiled back, laughed, and shook his head.

"Hey, Princess," Donkey said, "I think we've done 'bout as much damage here as we can for now. You finally ready to go?"

Fiona looked around her and sighed. "Yes, Donkey, I think I am." Her eyes then settled on Milquest. "Well, Mr. Mayor," she said, "I leave Duloc in your capable hands."

He gave a thin smile. "I don't know how capable they are, Your Majesty," he replied, bowing "but I'll do my best."

"Which I'm sure will be more than sufficient," she said. "And could you please send messengers out to the villagers and fairy tale folk, telling them they're invited to the wedding, too?"

"With pleasure, Your Majesty," he said.

"Great! Thank you!" she said, then turned to Maximus. "And thank you, Lieutenant Maximus, for coming through when we needed you."

"One small correction," Milquest interrupted, "that's CAPTAIN Maximus now."

Maximus looked over at Milquest. "Thank you, sir," he said.

"Not at all," Milquest replied, "you've earned it."

Maximus turned back to Fiona. "And thank YOU, your majesty," he said, bowing. "And God's speed."

"Thank you," she said again, and looked down at Donkey, "well, I guess we're ready to go."

"All right!" Donkey said, then turned to Dragon. "Okay, Babe. Boardin' time!"

Dragon smiled and reached down with a paw. Donkey stepped on it, then turned back to Fiona. "Princess?" he said.

Fiona looked up at Dragon and smiled tentatively. "Okay," she said meekly, then carefully stepped up onto the paw beside Donkey. Then she gave a yelp as Dragon lifted her paw and deposited the two on her back.

Dragon then spread her wings and took off, flying up to the window of the room where Shrek stood.

"All aboard!" Donkey called out.

"Jus' a sec," Shrek said, then turned back to face Beaglely. "Well, Mr. Beaglely, you've got yer wish. And ye managed keepin' us alive while ye got it. Good luck t'ya." Shrek held out his hand.

"Thank you Mr. … Shrek?" Beaglely said.

"It's ZACH!" Fiona called playfully from her perch on Dragon, using a voice loud enough to be heard across the courtyard, "As in MR. and MRS. SHREKLECHEH ZACH!"

Shrek cringed at Fiona's words, then looked back over his shoulder at his giggling fiancée. "Thanks SO much," he said sarcastically.

"Don't mention it!" she said, and laughed.

Shrek chuckled too, despite himself, then turned back to Beaglely. "Anyway," the ogre said, "again, good luck t'ye."

"Thank you, Mr. Zach," Beaglely said, taking a firm grim on the ogre's huge hand and shaking it, "and good luck to you in your new …" he looked out the window at Fiona and concluded "… adventures."

"Yeah, thanks," Shrek said, cracking a smile, "I think I'll need it."

"You coming or what?" Fiona called out, feigning impatience.

"Yes, I'm comin', woman," Shrek replied, feigning irritation, and carefully climbed out the window and onto Dragon's outstretched paw.

As Dragon deposited Shrek on her back, Fiona called to Beaglely, "Thank you, Mr. Beaglely, and good luck! And I hope I see you at the wedding!"

"I wouldn't miss it, Your Majesty," Beaglely said … and smiled.

"Well, goodbye!" Fiona said to him, then looked down at the crowd below. "GOODBYE!" she called down, waving.

"GOODBYE! GOODBYE!" they called and waved back to their former queen.

And then, with a great flap of wings, Dragon was speeding them away from Duloc proper and over the forest that led to Shrek's swamp.


	17. Chapter 15: Swamped

Chapter 15: Swamped

As they flew over the forest, Shrek began having second thoughts. No, not about wanting to marry Fiona. Heavens, no, not about that. As he looked over at her, her eyes closed, the wind rushing through her hair and a contented smile adorning her lips, he never felt more sure in his life as he did now that he wanted to spend the rest of his existence with this woman. But this woman was also royalty – born to expect a certain way of living. And what was HE offering this princess, this one-time queen? A shack in a swamp. That was all. The more he thought about it, the more ludicrous it seemed. He had always been rather proud of the home he had hewn by himself for himself – back when he was alone and didn't give a darn what ANYBODY else thought. But now things were different, and it was just sinking in HOW different they were. How could a princess possibly find happiness in such a shanty? Who was he trying to kid?

Fiona opened her eyes and looked over at Shrek. "This is GREAT!" she beamed, "My goodness, I never thought anything could be so exhilarat–" Then she appeared to read the uncertainty in his expression, and her smile faded. "Shrek, what's wrong?" she asked with concern.

"Oh, nothin'," Shrek replied, forcing an unconvincing smile.

Fiona cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "It doesn't LOOK like 'nothin''," she said. "Are you okay?"

"Couldn't be better," he said, squeezing her hand.

She still regarded him suspiciously, and seemed about to say something else when Donkey announced, "Shrek Corners, coming up!"

Fiona swung her gaze back forward, to Shrek's relief. "So soon?" she asked excitedly, trying to peer through the treetops.

"Hey, it don't take long when you travel as the dragon flies," Donkey said. "And speakin' uh dragonflies, there's the swamp!"

As Fiona leaned forward expectantly, Shrek inwardly shuddered at what he guessed this princess would think of his shack.

* * *

For a moment Fiona thought that Donkey was mistaken. But then, just as Donkey announced, a clearing appeared below. There was a knoll with green grass shimmering in the afternoon sun, and below it what appeared at first glance to be the wide, moss-covered base of a tree, with the trunk of the tree itself broken off some thirty feet or so up from the ground. But then, on further inspection Fiona recognized the doors, windows, porch, and other signs of construction where the remains of the tree had very cleverly been converted into a small house! Even the hollow trunk of the tree itself even seemed to have been put to use as a chimney of sorts. How very charming, Fiona thought to herself.

Dragon dropped to a landing on the knoll. With a yelp of excitement, Fiona leapt off her back and onto the grass, nearly tripping over a boulder that stuck partway out of the ground. She trotted down the knoll towards a clearing, and noticed a few hand-painted wooden signs sticking out of the ground, and one or two lying ON the ground that had apparently been knocked down. She picked one up; it bore a hand-painted inscription that read "BEWARE! OGRE!" alongside a rather simplistic rendering of Shrek's head.

Still holding the sign, she looked back at Shrek, who was just dismounting Dragon, and called back teasingly, "It's not a very good likeness!"

"It's – er – an abstract," he replied. He smiled as he joked, but the smile nevertheless didn't seem to encompass his entire face – there was still something else there distracting him.

Fiona decided to shrug that off for now – there was apparently something they would have to deal with later. For now, she wanted to enjoy this moment, and let Shrek know how much she enjoyed it. So she giggled at his "abstract" joke, then tossed the sign aside and ran across the clearing to the house, having to jump over a short line of logs that had been laid half-way across the clearing for some reason. She stopped a few feet from the front door of the house. She gazed with admiration at the handiwork, the rustic quality, the way the place blended in with the environment, both literally and artistically. Then she moved forward, pushed the door open and walked in. Her breath caught as she looked about at the wonderfully cozy and uniquely styled interior. The place could certainly use a little straightening up – hey, Shrek WAS a MALE, after all – but Fiona would have expected far worse from a human male than she saw from this ogre. One thing that did catch her eye was a wilting sunflower that was lying just in front of the fireplace. She wandered over and picked it up – paused for a moment, looking into the now unlit fireplace and wondering what the story was – then walked over to a large wooden table on which sat a small overturned vase. She sat the vase up and placed the flower within it. She would have to find some water for it in a few minutes. But for now, she wanted to explore the rest of this fascinating home. A home which – she realized with a literal tingle of excitement – she would soon call her own.

* * *

"Hey, what's whi'cho, man?" Donkey asked as he descended from his perch on Dragon's back.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Shrek said irritably as he began walking toward his house.

"Oh, come on, man, it's written all over your face," Donkey said trotting up beside his friend.

Shrek stopped half-way across the clearing, sighed, then said, "Donkey, I'm a fool."

"Why you say that?"

"Donkey, she's a PRINCESS," Shrek said, frustration creeping into his voice, then gestured to his house and added with disgust, "and that … that's a … SHACK."

"Oh, man, why you always selling her short?"

"Huh?"

"Fiona. You keep assumin' she's gonna react this hoidy-toidy way just 'cause she's royalty. And you know what they say about assumin'."

Shrek looked down at Donkey and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, YOU know what I mean," Donkey said.

Just then the door flew open and Fiona stepped out. She looked at Shrek, tears in her eyes.

Shrek bit his lip, then muttered, "Oh boy. It's worse'n I thought."

Fiona ran up to Shrek, paused just in front of him, and stared up into his eyes. She sniffed as Shrek gulped, then she said, "Shrek, it's … it's … BEAUTIFUL."

Shrek's jaw dropped. "It's … wha?"

"Beautiful!" she repeated.

Shrek continued staring down at her for a moment, then said, "Fiona, ye don't have to say that just 'cause … just 'cause …"

Her eyes narrowed in confusion as Shrek seemed to struggle for something more to say. Then she reached up, placed two fingers across his lips, and said, "Shrek, the reason I'm saying that is because it's TRUE. It's cute, it's cozy, it's homey, it's … it's BEAUTIFUL. I LOVE it. And I love YOU. And I think we'll be very happy here."

Shrek smiled, took her hand whose fingers were laying against his lips, and kissed it. "I love you, too," he said, then leaned down and they shared a kiss on the lips. As the kissed spanned several seconds, Donkey cracked a smile, looked away, and then began whistling softly as he absently kicked at a pebble. The ogres ignored him.

When their lips parted Fiona smiled up at Shrek and said, "I've just got a couple of questions."

"Shoot," he said.

"Well," she said, somewhat embarrassed, "I was wondering where the bathroom was, and …" here she gestured toward the outhouse that sat a few yards from the main house and added, "what's that?"

"Oh," Shrek said, blushing, "yeah, well, um …"

"Hey, whazzat?" Donkey blurted suddenly.

"Huh?" the ogres said together, looking down at Donkey, then followed his gaze to the edge of the clearing where a horse-drawn cart slowly ambled towards them. A man in a dark cloak was driving it, and there was a large load on the cart that was completely covered by a canvas. As the cart moved closer the group's expressions grew more curious and, in Shrek's case, more suspicious.

The cart stopped in the clearing a few feet from the group. As the driver dismounted the cart, Shrek cautiously stepped forwards while gently holding Fiona back with one hand. The driver turned to him and said, "Shreklecheh Zach?"

Shrek cringed at the name, but replied warily, "Aye?"

One of the driver's hands opened his cloak a bit as his other hand dove menacingly into one of his breast pockets, causing Shrek to tense and strike a defensive pose. But then the man simply pulled out an envelope. "Here," he said, holding it out to the ogre. Shrek stared at it for a moment, then carefully reached out and took it.

The driver turned back to his cart. He moved to the back and began loosening the ropes that held the canvas over whatever was strapped there. Shrek opened the envelope and removed a letter as Fiona and Donkey moved towards him. Fiona looked around his arm as he began reading the letter. Donkey, shorter, preened his neck but could not quite see. "Whazzit say? Whazzit say?" he asked.

Shrek spared one more suspicious glance toward the driver as the man worked, then looked back down at the note and read:

"You conquered hate and fear in old Duloc,

When evil forces there were run amok,

Now here's a wedding gift from me,

Have fun with this new karaoke."

Shrek looked back up towards the cart as he concluded, "It's signed … Merle."

Donkey shivered. "Oh, man. Y'know, that Merle cat's really startin' ta freak me out. An' what's a … a hari kari anyway?"

"A karaoke," Shrek corrected, then nodding toward the cart, "I'd imagine it's THAT."

With those words, the driver pulled the last of the canvas from the load on the cart, revealing an odd-looking machine as well as a pile of various musical instruments.

"Wow!" Donkey gasped excitedly. "That's … that's … different!"

"I'll help you unload it," the driver said, then he reached behind his cart's seat and pulled out a clipboard that held several sheets of parchment and then, handing it and a quill to Shrek, said, "but you'll need to sign for it first. Press hard, you need to make three copies."

* * *

Swamp toad soup. Fish eyes tar-tar. These were among the "all kind of things" Fiona remembered Shrek saying that he wanted to make for her when she came to visit him at his Swamp back when they had their first impromptu dinner – Heavens, was it only two evenings ago? But she had expected to have them in separate meals; not all in one sitting. Yet as the dinner hour approached and the ogre insisted on cooking a feast in honor of this special occasion, Fiona had readily agreed. Part was due to the pride that Shrek seemed to exude when he spoke of his cooking prowess, a pride that Fiona was reluctant to comment on, not knowing yet if her fiance was one of those silly types of males who found a proficiency in culinary arts to be less than manly. But also, frankly, she was famished. She had had little to eat the day before, and the only thing she had eaten this day was a few reluctant bites of overcooked eggs for breakfast in their cell. That was when her mind was obviously concentrated on things more foreboding. But now, the drama of the day having been played out, her stomach had reminded her of its own needs. So she had sat down at Shrek's table as he busied himself with preparing dinner, declining her offers to help. (She wasn't sure yet whether this was due to his desire to impress her, or because tonight she was a "special guest," or because he didn't yet trust her around his kitchen.) Then he started placing dishes before her with things that she knew humans would be hard-pressed just to look at without feeling ill. But the ogress ate with gusto. The first four courses had finally sated her hunger. The next three, eaten with less and less enthusiasm, tested her capacity. She dropped her wooden spoon after taking the last slurp of some unique sort of thick chowder filled with things that she couldn't quite identify, wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her dress, then leaned back in her chair and moaned contentedly. She found this position much more comfortable than trying to sit straight up now, as it relieved pressure on her bloated stomach, which was nearly as stretched and taught as the material of the dress that was now being hard-pressed to contain it without ripping. She placed a hand on what had already been an ample belly before the meal and which was now so engorged that when she tapped her fingers against it she felt like she was tapping the skin of a drum. She tried to remember her waist size as a human and then tried to figure how many times thicker it was now at this moment. She soon gave up; they'd probably need to invent some sort of calculating machine, she thought ruefully, before she could come up with a number THAT high. Or rather, in this case, wide.

So lost was she in her ruminations that she was startled when Shrek came up from behind her, called out jovially, "Dessert!" and plopped another dish down in front of her. This one held a large, steaming hunk of some sort of pie.

"Oh, Shrek, no! I can't!" Fiona protested. She looked up at him and saw him looking back down at her with a somewhat hurt expression on his face. She quickly thumped the side of her stomach and explained, "No more room!"

"Oh!" Shrek said, looking down at her bloated tummy. "Okay. Maybe later, then."

He then moved behind her and started massaging her shoulders as she continued to sit back. It felt heavenly. She just relaxed for a while, enjoying the sensation, but her face took on a gradually more pensive expression and she eventually asked, "Shrek, do you like me being plump?"

"Huh?" he said, surprised.

"I mean, in the past I never really ate that much, but when I transformed from being a thin human in the day to being an ogress at night, I was always … I mean, do all ogresses look … like me?"

"No," Shrek said, and Fiona felt chagrinned for a moment. But then he added, "You're MUCH prettier."

Fiona smiled. "You're sweet," she said, "but … you know what I mean."

"Fiona, in case ye hadn't noticed, ye won't find MY picture in one's those 'after' advertisements for some fad diet, either," he said, patting the side of his own sizeable girth.

"Yes," she said, "but – but is it …" She struggled for the right way to ask her question.

Shrek leaned down. "Is it … normal?" he volunteered.

"Yes!" she said, "Is it … is it normal for ogresses to be … big? I mean … width-wise?"

Shrek sighed. "Is that important for you, Fi? T'be … 'normal'?"

"Well, yes. I mean, no. I mean …" she sighed herself, exasperated, then looked up at him. "I want to be in whatever shape you find to be attractive," she confessed, and bit her lip.

Shrek smiled a sad smile, shook his head slightly, and then said, "Fiona, I find ye t'be beautiful. I find ye beautiful just the way ye are, I would fine ye beautiful if you gained a hundred pounds, and I would fine ye beautiful if ye lost just as many. Ye wanna know what's 'normal' – what's 'conventional' – with ogres an' ogresses? It's bein' unconventional, that's what. It's bein' yourself and not givin' a frog's leg what anybody else thinks. Tryin' to keep up an image to fit in with society is bunk, Fi. Ye keep your eyes on tryin' to shape yourself into what society says ye oughta be an' you're gonna lose track'a who ye are. An' the same goes for me. Don't keep tryin' to guess what ye look like through my eyes. 'Cause I just told ye, you'll always look great. What's important is how ye see yourself. Be what YOU wanna be, Fi. Shape yourself into the person YOU want, inside n' out. If I love ye, then I'll love that person. In fact, I'll love ye even more for havin' the courage to BE that person. If I don't, then I don't deserve ye. But that 'not' part, I'll gladly tell ye now, is somethin' you'll never have t'worry about."

Fiona looked up at Shrek, feeling tears welling in her eyes. "I love you, Shrek," she said.

"I love you, too," he said, smiling back, then leaned down and they shared a kiss. It was interrupted, though, as Fiona involuntarily let loose with a long, loud belch.

"Ah!" the proud chef said happily, "Now you've got room for dessert!"

He patted her shoulder, then moved over to the sink where he started to clean the various dirty pots and dishes. Fiona sighed, then carefully shifted her weight and leaned back toward the table and examined the pie. There was something about the filling …

"Shrek," she asked, "are those … WORMS?"

"Aye!" he replied, "Some'a the biggest n' tastiest that I've picked in years! You'll LOVE 'em!"

Fiona looked at the pie, shrugged, then picked up her fork and started digging in.

* * *

A short while later they heard the whoosh of large wings outside, and saw through the windows loose leaves and other debris flying about.

"Oh good!" Fiona cried, "They're back!"

She tried to spring up from the table, but quickly realized that she wouldn't be doing much springing for the rest of that evening. Instead, she shoved herself into a standing position and then half-walked, half-waddled toward the door as quickly as she could while Shrek, drying a freshly washed pot, noted, "Well, it took 'em quite a while t'get back. Just what was it ye were askin' 'em to pick up for ye, anyhow? Ye kept whisperin' to them and then refused to tell me what ye said."

Fiona paused as she opened the door, looked back at him, smiled a mischievous smile, then giggled and said, "You'll see!" She then passed through the doorway and made her way across the clearing as Dragon finished her decent.

"Did you find it all?" Fiona called up to Donkey, who was perched on Dragon's back.

"You bet!" Donkey called down enthusiastically. He then used his teeth to grab hold of a lumpy stuffed cloth sack roughly five feet in diameter and slid with it down off of Dragon's back as she leaned forward for him. He still managed to bump his behind on the landing, but held onto the sack.

"Great!" Fiona said, then relieved him of his burden, opened the top slightly and stared inside. "Perfect!"

She looked down at Donkey and smiled a grateful smile. "Thank you SO much!" she said, then leaned over and kissed him on the tip of his nose.

Donkey smiled and blushed. "Ahhh … I'm speechless," he said shyly, absently kicking the ground.

"THAT'LL be a first," a voice said from the house. Everybody looked over to see Shrek standing in the doorway, drying a pot but staring at the scene before him with a mixture of curiosity and impatience. "Would ye PLEASE tell me what's goin' on, now?" he asked.

"Very shortly," Fiona replied coyly, then turned back to look at Dragon. "And thank YOU, Dragon. I really appreciate your efforts."

Dragon smiled and shrugged.

Fiona added, "Maybe I can repay the favor someday when YOU get married." Dragon smiled a little more broadly and both females cast a playful glance Donkey's way.

"Huh? Whazzat?" the equine said, his ears drooping nervously as he blushed even more deeply than before.

Fiona laughed then slung the heavy sack over her back with seemingly little effort and started back toward the house. As she strode forward, Donkey perked back up and observed, "Hey, you know, you remind me of Santa Claus! Exceptin', well, you're an ogre, an' female, an' got green skin, an' got red hair, an' don't gotta beard, an' you're wearin' white, an' you're inna swamp, an' …"

Donkey continued along the same vein for several seconds more but Fiona wasn't listening anymore. Her concentration was toward Shrek, who continued to stare suspiciously at her from the doorway. As she mounted the porch, she used her royal princess voice to say, "Please step aside, kind Sir."

"Huh?" Shrek muttered, then "Oh." He then stepped aside and Fiona passed by him into the house, the sack barely fitting through the doorway. She laid it down in the middle of the floor, opened the top and looked inside.

"Okay," Shrek said, "NOW what?"

After a moment of rummaging within the sack she exclaimed, "All right! They DID grow!"

"Huh?" Shrek asked.

Fiona pulled out an armful of some dozen dresses and gowns similar in design and quality to the green felt dress she was wearing when they met. "The dresses from my castle," she explained, "they all grew and shrank with the rising and setting of the sun to match my own … dimensions. Part of the curse and all that." She looked out a window at the last fading rays of the sunset. "Fortunately, it looks like they're stuck in the 'plus' size, like me, so they'll continue to fit." Then she grinned, slapped her bloated tummy, and added, "That is, assuming you don't make many more feasts like you did tonight!"

Shrek laughed, but not whole-heartedly. Fiona saw him gazing at the high-quality dresses with a troubled look in his eyes. "Shrek, what is it?" she asked.

"Well, they're not … um … what ye might call the best attire fer swampwear, if ye know what I mean," he said.

"Oh," she said, then blushed. "Well, I think they'll be fine. Besides, for casual wear I can make my own dresses and – Shrek what's wrong?"

Fiona's question was prompted by a pained expression she saw suddenly engulf Shrek's features. She was afraid he'd shrug her concern off and not open himself up to her, and was relieved when he started speaking. "Fi," he said, "are ye sure we're doin' the right thing?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation, tossing the dresses aside into Shrek's armchair with intentional disregard, "I've never been more sure of anything. I've already told you that."

"But you're used to so much better," he said, gesturing to the pile of dresses. "An' this place – I remember when Donkey first laid eyes on it. He's an animal use t'livin' in barns 'n things, and even HE said, 'Who'd wanna live in a place like THAT.'"

"I would," Fiona stated. "Like I said before, this is a WONDERFUL place! You should be PROUD of what you've done with it!"

"But ye were born a princess, with royal expectations" he said, "wouldn't ye be more at home in a castle, like back in Duloc, with servants around t'do your beck 'n call?"

Fiona snorted contemptuously. "Castles are just big, cold, drafty piles of hard unyielding soulless stones. And sometimes the servants can become just as cold and soulless, those unfortunate enough to find themselves performing tasks they don't want to do for people who don't appreciate it; those people being egotistical aristocrats who think themselves better than their servants and subjects without really thinking at all, but rather assuming the accident of birth that placed them in their position to be a birthright granted by God. People of my 'class' aren't all like that, Shrek, but too many of us are. My Love, over the past couple of days you've rescued me from imprisonment and from beheading, but what I'm most grateful for is that you've rescued me from becoming such a self-absorbed prude. And although I'm delighted at the way you make me FEEL, I'm even more overjoyed that you've forced me to THINK. You've not only opened a door to my heart, but you've lifted veils from my eyes. And these eyes look at what you've got here and they tear up with joy. This place HAS a soul, Shrek – an extension of YOUR soul. I can see why you risked your life in a quest to get it back. It is warm, and comfortable, and every nook and corner speaks of the effort and loving care you've put into making it what it is. And it is BEAUTIFUL."

Shrek smiled, but the smile still wasn't complete somehow. His eyes drifted back to the heap of royal dresses like a compass needle being drawn toward the north pole. "But are ye sure about US, Fi? I mean, in the long run? You're a princess an', although I appreciate the compliments, I AM just a common ogre …"

Fiona sighed and shook her head. Then she looked back at the still lumpy sack and smiled. "Speaking of complements, this kinda leads into the next items we have in the bag."

"Huh?" Shrek asked, confused at the apparent shift in gears.

But Fiona was back at the sack, rummaging through it again. A moment later, she pulled out a three-foot tall ornate pedestal.

"What's tha–" Shrek began, then recognized it as one of the pedestals upon which Fiona and Farquaad's crowns had stood during their wedding ceremony. "What did ye bring THAT back for?" he asked.

"You'll see!" Fiona said, then reached into the sack and pulled out the other pedestal. Coyly ignoring the curious gaze she felt Shrek burning into her, she carried the two objects over to one empty corner of the room and sat them there side-by-side. She then returned to the much depleted sack, reached in, and pulled out the beautiful gold tiara that she had been wearing when they met and during their eventful journey back to Duloc. A little more rummaging and she also pulled out the tarnished, dented, battered helmet that Shrek had been wearing when they met and during the rescue from Fiona's castle.

"HEY!" he gasped, "What the …"

Fiona suppressed a laugh, then walked over to the pedestals and placed the tiara on one and the helmet on the other. She then turned back to look at Shrek. He smiled a crooked, bemused smile and shook his head slightly. She returned the smile, then walked over beside him, turned and looked back at the pedestals with their diverse headgear.

"So," she said, nodding toward the headwear, "what do you think about our couple over there?"

"Hum," Shrek shrugged, almost dismissively, "they make a rather ODD couple, don'cha think?"

"Really?" she said, sounding analytical and tapping her chin with one finger, "how so?"

Shrek looked at her. He seemed to know that she was drawing him in, but couldn't help himself.

"Well, look at him," he said, gesturing to the helmet, "all those dents and scratches and things. Poor guy's been through a lot. Not much shine left. A lotta rough edges on that one."

"True," Fiona conceded, "but that just gives him his own unique character. Plus, he's proven he can handle all that's been thrown at him, and still be reliable and trustworthy. A pretty fine helmet, if you ask me."

Fiona looked at the helmet and nodded approvingly – and a tad theatrically – at her own reasoning. Shrek smiled despite himself. Okay, he decided, he'd play this game.

"Now that tiara," he said, "she's a beautiful sight t'behold."

"N'aah," Fiona responded dismissively, wrinkling her nose, "she's still beautiful only because she's been locked away for years, protected from all the knocks and bruises real life might have given her. All her beauty's external."

"Oh, but I disagree!" he replied vehemently, "she's constructed of the finest metal in the land! I mean, she may LOOK delicate, but in truth, she's made of pretty tough stuff. True, she's beautiful – 'specially with all those intricate 'n surprisin' facets you discover if you take the time to look close enough – but don't let her looks deceive ye. There's even more to'er than meets the eye."

"Oh, I see," Fiona mused, tapping her chin and, incidentally, leaning a little bit more on Shrek's arm, "so what you're saying is, some things are more that what they appear to be. Is that right?"

She looked up at him with innocently inquisitive eyes. He smiled openly, almost laughing as he replied, "Yeah. Somethin' like that."

The ogres continued to smile and stare at each other. Then their faces began to draw closer and their smiles faded into something else. As they drew nearer their eyes began to close and their lips began to part and then –

And then a familiar voice sounded from the doorway. "Did'ja find the box yet?" Donkey asked.

The two ogres looked back at Donkey. Shrek's expression bore more than slight irritation, but Fiona looked confused. "Box?" she asked. "What box?"

"I was told ta tell ya it's a gift from the people of Duloc," he replied. "When we went back there ta pick up the pedestals an' your green dress an' your little half-crown thingy, they tol' me they wanted to give them to ya as a weddin' gift causa' all you did for 'em."

"Give 'them' to us?" Fiona reiterated, confused.

"Check the box," Donkey said, "you'll see!"

Fiona looked down at the sack. It laid on the floor in an apparently empty heap. But she rummaged through it one more time, and found what she assumed Donkey was referring to; a black box only some 5 inches square. She opened the box – then gasped.

"What is it?" Shrek asked, looking over her shoulder. Then his face, too, took on a look of surprise. "Wow!" he said.

Within the box were two very wide, shiny gold band wedding rings. Fiona reached in, took them out, and dropped the box. "Oh, my!" she said breathlessly, and slid the smaller of the two on her finger to see if it fit. It did, perfectly.

"How'd they know the size?" Shrek asked.

"Beaglely tol' the jeweler what size t'make 'em," Donkey replied. "Beaglely says he's observant of things like that. Said he had a lotta time to watch the princess's hand as she was signin' all those papers. Said he wasn't so sure about Shrek and hopes he got his size right."

Fiona pulled her ring off her finger, hoping she hadn't broken some bad-luck taboo by trying it on before the wedding. But the damage having been done, he gave Shrek his ring. He tried it on. It nearly fit, but was just a bit too wide.

"It doesn't fit quite as well as mine," she observed, a little disappointed.

"It fits well enough," he said.

"We can have it adjusted later so that it fits better," she offered.

"Or I can grow used to it," he countered.

"Or maybe a little of both," she said, looking up at him. Then they both laughed and fell into each other's arms. A second later they were sharing the kiss that Donkey's entry had interrupted a few moments before.

"Yeah, well, all those are good ideas," Donkey said. But the ogres, still locked in their embrace, were ignoring him.

"So, I guess I'm jus' go on back out, then," Donkey said, a little uncomfortable.

The ogres continued their embrace, ignoring him.

"So, I guess I'll see you all later, then," Donkey said, half-turning toward the door. Then he looked back. The ogres were still embracing, ignoring him. Donkey smiled, shook his head, and left the house, the door swinging shut behind him.

* * *

Night fell and the hours grew later. Soon bedtime was approaching, and the ogres realized with a little embarrassment that Shrek's house only held one bedroom. Although this would hardly be a problem after their wedding the next day, for this night it did present a small dilemma that was solved when Shrek insisted that Fiona take the bedroom while he and Donkey slept under the stars, the way they did that first night after rescuing Fiona from Dragon. Not being able to think of a reasonable alternative, Fiona reluctantly agreed.

Now Fiona was dressed in a nightgown, standing by the window in the unlit bedroom, staring up at the twinkling stars in a clear night sky and listening to Shrek and Donkey converse from where whey laid on their backs several yards away in the clearing. Like that first night, the two again apparently underestimated her hearing ability.

"So," she heard Donkey say, "Wat'cho gonna do now?"

"Whaddya mean?" Shrek asked.

"After you two get married. You gonna move somewhere else, or stay here."

"Stay here."

"She's okay with that?"

"She seems more'n okay. She says she LIKES the place."

"See? I TOLD ya so! She's a heck of'a woman – or ogress – or whatever. Anyway, you sure are lucky, Shrek."

"Yeah. I know. Weird the way things work out. All I wanted when we left on that quest was t'get this swamp back. Then, after I met her an' … all that, an' I got the swamp back but thought I'd lost her, this place didn't seem t'mean anything any more. Now I've got her, AND the swamp, an' the two seem t'get along just fine. It's like a dream come true."

"Sounds to me like you're headin' for one'a those 'happily ever after' endin's ya read so much about."

"Yeah. I hope so. I really, really do."

Fiona smiled and decided she'd done enough eavesdropping – intentionally or otherwise – for one night. She yawned and looked at the simple but tidy bed. She pulled down the covers, got in, and then pulled the covers up over her. She tried to go to sleep, but somehow couldn't. She felt uncomfortable. Why was that, she wondered. Jitters about the next day's wedding? Doubts about its wisdom? Fears that she was rushing things? Worries about whether she would be able to make Shrek happy? Concerns about the eventual meetings that would have to take place with her human family and friends, so many of which she feared wouldn't understand? Were these things starting to gnaw at her and keep her awake? She thought about it, and eventually she realized that no, they weren't. So she got back out of bed, lifted the mattress, and saw a pea sitting there underneath it. "Figures!" she said, picking up the pea and tossing it out the window. She then got back into bed, pulled the covers back over her, and was soon sleeping the sleep of the blessed.


	18. Chapter 16: Our Beast Friends' Wedding

Chapter 16: Our Beast Friends' Wedding

Shrek, exhausted from the past few days' activities, slept well and slept long. His slumber was slightly disturbed sometime around dawn, when he thought he heard the high strains of a female voice singing, followed by an odd popping sound. Dismissing it as a weird dream, he fell back to sleep. Finally, around ten in the morning, he was jolted fully awake by a loud, reverberating guitar twang.

"What the –" he muttered, sitting up from where he had been lying with his head on one of the logs. Actually, it turned out to be the last log in the clearing. And, as soon as he sat up, two elves suddenly appeared and carried that last log away.

"Oh, no," Shrek said as he looked around. The karaoke and other sound equipment had been sat up along one side of the clearing, and several of the dwarves had instruments in hand and were apparently rehearsing. At anther part of the clearing about ten people – a mixture of fairy tale folk and human commoners – were busy setting up a tall flowery arch and setting several rows of wooden benches in front of it. Donkey walked amongst them, chatting away about something. Some of the people offered polite smiles and nods as he prattled on, others ignored him completely. Shrek realized that they were setting up the stage for the wedding. He shivered involuntarily.

At yet another part of the clearing someone had set up a temporary bar with several small tables in front. A bartender stood behind it cleaning a glass while at one of the tables a young blond woman in a lovely yellow dress sat, sipping from a glass, a tall open bottle sitting on the table in front of her.

Fiona was nowhere to be seen, but Donkey, seeing that Shrek was awake, came strolling up with a wide toothy smile on his face.

"Soooo!" Donkey said teasingly, "Sleeping Beauty awakes! Man, Shrek, you not only slept ON a log, you slept LIKE a log!"

Ignoring Donkey's playful sarcasm, Shrek frowned and gestured to all the activity around the clearing. "What's all this?" he asked irritably.

"Oh, they started showin' up 'bout an hour ago," Donkey said, "they wanted to start settin' up for the party."

"Party?" Shrek echoed. "Who said anything about a party? We're just gettin' married!"

"Oh, c'mon, Shrek! Everybody's happy for ya and wants ta celebrate. Ya can't have a problem with THAT!"

Shrek's frown of disapproval twisted into a pensive, pursed-lip look of mild distaste. "Well … what does Fiona think of it?"

"You kin ask her yourself," Donkey replied, nodding toward the house, "she's been up for a couple'a hours. She even made us breakfast again! Omelets! I guess that gal has a thing for eggs. Mine was plain, but still delicious. Yours … has a few things mixed in that I'm not sure about, but a couple 'em were round an' seemed to be lookin' back at me. Kinda freaky. Anyway, it's on the table in there; you'll probably wanna warm it up."

"Thanks," Shrek said, and strode across the clearing and into his house.

Shrek noticed on the kitchen table a plate with a large lumpy omelet, just as Donkey had indicated, but Fiona was nowhere to be seen. He ignored the omelet for now and continued to the bedroom door, which was closed. He knocked. "Fi!" he called, "You decent?"

"DON'T COME IN! YOU MUSTN'T SEE ME!" Fiona's panicked voice boomed from the other side of the door.

Shrek was taken aback, then said with some concern, "Fiona, what's wrong? Did one'a them witches do somethin' else bad to ye?!"

"No, no, no!" Fiona called back, "It's our wedding day! It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride on the day of the wedding before the ceremony!"

Shrek let out a sigh of relief, then said, "Oh, come on, Fiona, y'aren't superstitious, are ye?"

Fiona's voice answered, "Shrek, we're a couple of ogres living in a land full of witches and fairies and all sorts of enchanted creatures. Don't you think a little superstition rather goes with the territory?"

"Hum," Shrek said pensively, "I guess I see your point. Well, is there anything I can do t'help ye?"

"Yes, actually," she said, then the door opened a crack and Fiona thrust an arm out. Her hand was holding the soiled wedding dress she had worn for the previous two days. "Have this cleaned, I want to wear it at the wedding."

"Sure," Shrek said, taking the dress. As soon as he had hold of it, Fiona pulled her arm back in and shut the door in a motion so quick that it caused Shrek to jump.

"Thank you, dear," Fiona said, her voice suddenly sweet and honeyed.

"No problem, darling," Shrek lied. Actually, he had no idea of how to go about cleaning a wedding dress. He guessed that scrubbing it against the rocks in the creek, which is what he occasionally did with his own clothes, wouldn't do for such a garment. He supposed he'd have to find out what WAS appropriate – and quickly.

"Oh, and I hope you don't mind, but I took your measurements from some of your clothes in here and sent to Duloc for something nice for you to wear," she added in that same, sweet tone.

"Ye DID?" Shrek said, feeling a little irritation rise within him.

"You DON'T mind, do you, sweetheart?" Fiona said, adding even more honey and a little plaintiveness to her voice.

"Uh – no – not at all – apple strudel," Shrek replied resignedly. "I'll – um – see about gettin' your dress cleaned."

"Thank you, dear!" Fiona said again.

Shrek grunted, then strolled over to the kitchen table, draped the dress across the back of an empty chair, and looked down at the omelet. Fiona had done well in integrating a number of delicacies that he had stored around the kitchen into the mixture. His stomach rumbled in anticipation. He debated whether to warm the omelet over the fire, then decided that that would be too much bother and sat down to eat it cold. He found himself wishing that someone could invent a device that you could just toss a cold dish into it, push a button, and a minute later it would be warm again. Then he chuckled. That would be getting back into the realm of magic, he realized. He gobbled the omelet down – made a mental note to advise Fiona on how to season eggs at some future date – then picked the dress back up, folded it over an arm, and wandered back out of the house.

Donkey met Shrek as he descended the porch. "What'cho got there?" he asked.

"It's to wear at the wedding," Shrek said, holding up the dress.

Donkey's mouth knotted as he looked at the dress, then he said, "I don't think it'll fit ya."

Shrek groaned, rolled his eyes, and said, "It's for FIONA, you smart a–"

"I know! I know! I'm just messin' with ya!" Donkey interrupted, smiling.

Shrek sighed, looked at the worn, soiled dress himself, then frowned and said, "Trouble is, she wants me t'have it clean an' dry in time for the ceremony today."

"Hummm, tough order," Donkey commented, cocking an eyebrow. Then both eyes opened wide and he sputtered, "I know! We can have Dragon take it to that guy that runs that new shop in Duloc – what they call that – a dry cleaners!"

"Dry cleaners?" Shrek repeated, his tone doubtful. "Sounds like an oxy-moron."

"Hey, I dunno how smart the guy is," Donkey said, "I just hear he kin get delicate stuff clean fast without doin' things that kin damage the material."

"Without usin' water?" Shrek asked.

"I guess."

"So, what is this, some kind of magic shop?"

"No, man. It's straight. I think the owner uses some sorta chemicals."

"Oh, so he's an alchemist?"

"Hey, man, I dunno his religion. I just know that if ya really wanna get Fiona's dress clean quick an' safe, he's prob'ly your best bet."

"Okay, okay," Shrek said, still a little doubtful but not able to think of an alternative, "let's go get Dragon."

"That won't be necessary, gentlemen," a genteel female voice said from behind them.

Shrek and Donkey turned, startled, to see a white-haired, somewhat pudgy middle-aged woman wrapped in a hood and cloak and wearing granny-glasses and holding a magic wand standing beside them.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you!" the woman apologized, "It's just that I happened to hear your conversation and wanted to offer my assistance. It just so happens that renovating gowns and such for big social occasions is one of my specialties!"

"Usin' that?" Shrek said, nodding toward her wand.

"Well, it does help channel the proper powers," the woman replied.

Shrek frowned reluctantly for a moment, then said, "Okay, but be careful."

"Certainly!" the woman said. "Now, hold out the dress."

Shrek did so, trying not to think of how Fiona would react if this went awry.

"Now, what was that incantation for WEDDING dresses?" the woman muttered to herself, rubbing her chin thoughtfully for a moment. Then she brightened. "Oh, now I remember!" She waved her wand, then said, "Hitchin-ah kupple-ah foo!" and pointed the wand at the dress. Shimmering light surrounded it for a moment, then Shrek found himself holding a perfectly clean, untattered dress.

"Wow!" Shrek said, "Uh – thanks!"

"No problem, dear, none at all!" she said. "And if you liked my service, and you and your lovely bride have any offspring in the near future and you need a good Fairy Godmother, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep me in mind. My rates are VERY reasonable."

Shrek blushed at the mention of offspring. "Well – I – umm –"

"It's all right dear, I understand!" the woman said sweetly, pulling a small square of paper out of a pocket and handing it to Shrek. "Here's my card."

"Uh – thanks," Shrek said again, taking the card.

"Not at all!" the woman replied. Then her eyes drifted over to the bar. "Hum," she said to herself, "I wonder if they have any sherry. Or maybe even a rum punch …" With that she started wandering over toward the bar.

As Shrek watched her go, Donkey said, "Hey, that was handy!"

"Yeah," Shrek agreed, shoving the card into a pocket, "it sure was."

"So," Donkey said, "what about you?"

"What ABOUT me?"

"What'cho gonna wear?"

Shrek looked off into space, grumbled and ground his teeth.

Donkey cocked an eyebrow, then said, "Izzat some kinda ogre language? 'Cause I ain't trackin'."

Shrek sighed. "Fiona said she sent out to Duloc t'get me something NICE t'wear," he said, injecting more than subtle disdain into the word 'nice'."

"Man, you say 'nice' like it's a four-letter word," Donkey said.

"'Nice' IS a four-letter word," Shrek countered, smiling wryly.

"You KNOW what I mean, Shrek. Anyway, uh, you wasn't plannin' on wearing THAT was you?" Donkey asked, nodding at Shrek's dirty, greasy shirt and worn vest.

"Well – I DO have cleaner shirts," he confessed, "well, somewhat cleaner, anyway. But I wasn't plannin' on getting dressed up."

Donkey chuckled. "Man, you just don't get women, do ya?"

"Apparently not," Shrek admitted. "But – hey, what's that?"

"Huh?" Donkey said, then followed where Shrek had suddenly started staring up towards the sky. A pigeon was swooping down – a rather unorthodox pidgin, one wearing a small leather flying cap and scarf and toting a miniature mailbag, which in this case was holding what for it was an oversized, tightly wound scroll. The bird flew down to within a few feet of Shrek, tossed the scroll down (which the ogre caught easily), saluted briefly, then flew off again.

"Now THERE'S somethin' ya don't see every day!" commented Donkey.

Shrek mumbled his agreement as he unwound what for him was a rather small scroll.

"Whazzit say?" Donkey asked.

"It's from 'Frank's Armor, Noblewear, and Wedding Ensembles of Duloc'," Shrek read, "It says that they're sorry, but they can't design a suit to the requested dimensions in time for the wedding today."

"Not enough time?" Donkey asked.

"No, they don't have enough material on stock," Shrek replied, looking through the note. "In compensation, they've included a coupon here fr'a free one-night tuxedo rental at any time in the future – once they're able to make one t'my size. Ha! A fat lotta good THAT does us!"

"Well, ya never know, that might come in handy one day," Donkey said.

"Like when?"

"I dunno – maybe some day when ya win an award or somethin'."

"Yeah, right!" Shrek scoffed. "Like THAT'S ever gonna happen!"

Shrek chuckled, shoved the scroll into the same pocket as the card, and turned his attention back to the dress he now had draped over one wrist. "I guess we'd better take this back to Fiona b'fore something else happens to it."

The ogre and donkey headed back into the house. Shrek knocked on the bedroom door. "Fiona!" he called. "It's me. I've got your dress ready."

"Already?!" a delighted Fiona said from the other side. "That's GREAT! Shrek, you're wonderful!"

Shrek beamed, pleased at the compliment. "Well, thanks," he said, "it was nothin', really."

"Yeah, you can say THAT again!" Donkey chimed in, grinning. "He'd practically just got outside the door when this fairy godmother showed up and BAM, cleaned your dress all up! Shrek pretty much just stood there, like a big lump."

Donkey noticed the seething look that Shrek was casting down in his direction. Donkey's grin vanished and he asked, "What'd I say? What'd I say?"

Shrek shook his head and rolled his eyes as Fiona said, "Well, thanks anyway, dear." The door opened just enough for Fiona to slip her arm out, hand open. Shrek gave her the dress, then the arm again disappeared quickly and the door shut abruptly in his face.

"Well, uh, I guess we'll se ye later," Shrek said, and turned to go.

"Oh, Shrek, could you have Donkey stay behind?" Fiona asked.

"Donkey?" Shrek repeated. "Why …"

"He IS going to be your best man, isn't he?"

Shrek looked down at Donkey. The equine looked back up at him, and his face burst into another toothy grin.

"Well … I suppose so," Shrek agreed. "The best that can be had on such short notice, anyway."

"Good," Fiona said. "I want to do a little rehearsing. And you need to get busy!"

"Me?" Shrek said. "What d'ye want ME to do?"

"I want you to compose something to recite at the wedding."

"COMPOSE something?" Shrek said. "I thought somebody was just gonna mumble some words an' I promise t'love ye and ye promise t'obey me and we said 'I do.'"

"Uh – yeah, that'll be part of it," Fiona agreed, "But I want this to be really special. So I want us both to compose something additional for each other."

"Like what?" Shrek asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "A poem. A ballad. A sonnet. A limerick. SOMETHING … as long as it comes from the heart."

Shrek sighed uncomfortably. "Well … okay, I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, dear," Fiona said sweetly.

"Yeah," Shrek said, and began walking away.

"Oh, and dear?" Fiona called.

"Yeah?" Shrek asked, turning back.

"We'll need to talk about that 'obey' thing later."

Shrek grunted, one corner of his mouth breaking into a little grin in spite of himself, and he left the house. He paused on the porch, watching the activity around him as more fairy tale folk as well as humans kept arriving and mingling with each other. He shook his head. THIS was a sight he hadn't seen before. Maybe Fiona was right. Maybe they had started something – a shift in culture and perceptions. Maybe people of different appearances, backgrounds, and beliefs really COULD learn to live side-by-side in peace and harmony and … naaaah.

As he stood on the porch, one of the humans approached him. Shrek recognized him as the priest.

"Mr. Zach?" the priest said, bowing slightly.

"Uh – your – uh – priestliness," Shrek replied, awkwardly returning the bow. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better."

The priest smiled. "That little overdue activity DID take a bit out of me," he conceded, "but I'm fine now. In fact, I'd like to offer my services for your wedding this evening."

"You would?" Shrek said, "Well, that's quite considerate of you – uh, Father. Fiona's right in here," he said, and turned back to the door and knocked loudly.

After a few moments, Fiona's voice came from the other side. "Who's there?"

"Fiona, the priest's here, an' –"

"Great!" Fiona said, "Just in time to rehearse! Have him come in! But YOU stay out!"

"Well, how am I supposed to know what t'do if we don't –"

"YOU just need to stand there and say 'I do'," Fiona answered, "AFTER you've read that THING you're supposed to be composing!"

"Very well," Shrek said, somewhat irritably. He fought the irritation down as he turned back to the priest, bowed slightly again, said, "Father," and gestured him toward the door, which opened just enough to allow the human in.

The priest nodded, walked to the door, then turned and smiled. "Don't worry, son," he said, "aside from the … unusual circumstances and setting, you're not going through anything that thousands of grooms haven't gone through before."

"Uh – thanks," Shrek said.

"Not at all," the priest said, then entered the house past the open door – which someone (Shrek could guess who) quickly slammed behind him.

Shrek again sighed and smiled, then again turned back to look at the diverse crowd. His eyes alighted on the group of dwarves working with their various musical instruments. They seemed to be struggling with chords and – lyrics. Shrek realized that they were working at composing something. Perhaps, he thought, maybe THEY could be of assistance with his assignment. He noticed one of the dwarves – the grumpy one, if he recalled correctly – standing alone off to one side watching the others while he puffed on a cigar. His arms were crossed and he was leaning against that glass casket – a casket that now was empty. Shrek approached the dwarf.

"Hello," Shrek said, "um – I hope the instruments are working out okay for ye."

The dwarf shrugged, irritation on his face that at LEAST seemed to rival that of Shrek on a normal day. "They'll do," he said, not removing the cigar from his mouth as he spoke, "though we've worked with better."

"Really?" Shrek said.

"Yeah. We go on tour every year. We hit all the big towns on the fairyland circuit. Avalon, Oz, Fisco, you name it."

"You play Neverland?"

The dwarf's mouth twisted in particular distaste. "Never Neverland. Not any MORE, anyway. Last time we were there, things kept going wrong with the instruments. We were pretty popular going in, and there was this particularly jealous little pixie lived there that always got ticked when anybody got paid more attention than her. We figured she tinkered with our instruments when we weren't looking. Anyway, we sounded horrible. First time we ever got the hook on stage!" The dwarf shuddered.

"Yeah, well, sorry t'hear that," Shrek said, fumbling around, then glanced back at the empty casket. "What happened to the broad?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Got kissed," the dwarf answered curtly.

"By who?" Shrek asked.

The dwarf sneered and jerked a thumb towards the side of the woods. Shrek followed the gesture and saw the raven-haired former occupant of the coffin standing there, her hands clasped with and her eyes staring up at Monsieur Hood. Curious, Shrek turned both ears in their direction.

"Oh, mon– MA cherie," Hood was saying, his French accent particularly thick, "your eyes, zey are like zee glistening waters of zee Seine as she reflects zee beauties of zee magical city of Par-ee."

"Oh, please DO go on!" the woman said, breathlessly, "Your words flow like sweet honey. They send my heart a-flutter, and my mind a-whirl. I don't know what I should say or do!"

Hood's smile deepened. He seemed on the verge of suggesting something when she added, "I can't tell you how much I look forward to our wedding night!"

"Wedding?" Hood said, his smile (and accent) suddenly dropping, "Who said anything about a wedding?"

"But Monsieur!" the woman said, batting her eyes, "Why else would a hero like you have kissed me and awakened me from my death-like sleep, if not to make me your bride?"

"Well – I – er –" Hood stammered.

The woman then released one of her hands from his and ran the tip of one finger down the length of his chest, and added, "Your most GRATEFUL bride."

Hood blushed, then said, "Oh! But my dear – ahem," he recovered his French accent as he continued, "zere is no hur-ry! In France, you see, it is cus-tom-ar-y to have a trial period of –"

"Oh, Rob," a tired, disgusted, and nasally female voice said from behind Hood.

Hood whirled to see a brunet woman in a flowing white dress and conical hennin cap, her arms crossed and a look of disgust on her face.

"MARION!" Hood blurted.

"Surprise," Marion said, her voice flat and cynical.

"Who is this … person?" the raven-haired woman asked, her eyes narrowing and her voice agitated.

"Sorry, sister," Marion said, "you need to find some other jerk to get your claws into. This one's taken." Marion then reached up and grabbed Hood by an ear. "OW!" he yelled in pain as Marion, unmoved, said, "C'mon, 'Monsier'," and started leading him away.

"But – but –" the raven-haired woman stammered, reaching out toward her departing companion.

"Sorry, ma cherie!" the retreating Hood called back as Marion continued dragging him away by his ear, "alas, it was not meant to be … OW!"

The raven-haired woman watched them depart, then her face twisted in rage and she let loose with a string of invectives that Shrek was certain he must have misunderstood. She then turned, saw him and the dwarf standing together, then strode forward to them.

"Another pathetic loser," she said in disgust, addressing the dwarf. "That really ticks me off."

"What can I say, Snow?" the dwarf said, puffing on his cigar.

"Gimme one of those stogies, would you?" she asked.

"Now, Snow, they say these things aren't good for you –"

"Yeah, yeah, and they say an apple a day keeps the doctor away. And look where THAT got me!"

The dwarf shrugged and then, as Shrek watched incredulously, he handed her a cigar. She bit the end off and unceremoniously spit it away as the dwarf struck a match. She pulled hard on the cigar as he lit it for her; she then leaned her head back and blew out a great billow of smoke. "Oh, that's GREAT!" she said, "It seems like AGES since I've smoked one of these."

"Actually, Snow, it HAS been a while," the dwarf said, gesturing toward the casket.

She scoffed and took another long puff on her cigar. As she did so she noticed a slack-jawed Shrek staring at her. "And what are YOU looking at?" she spat, spewing a cloud of smoke in his direction.

"Oh – uh – nothin' – I –"

"Just you ARE you, anyway?" she said, running her eyes up and down his sizable frame, "The jolly green giant?"

"No," Shrek said, irritation helping him recover his tongue, "my name's Shrek."

"Oh. Weird name. Mine's White. Snow White."

The dwarf chuckled.

"WHAT?!" Snow said, turning on the dwarf.

"Oh, nothin', Snow," the dwarf said, then gestured to Shrek. "But be nice to him. We're playin' a gig here, and he's our host. He's getting' married later today."

"HE'S getting' married?" Snow said, aghast. "Oh, criminy, HE'S getting married and I can't even get – oh –" Snow then let loose with another string of invectives. But then her eyes alighted on the waspish figure of the young blond woman in the fine yellow dress who was still sitting by herself at one of the tables near the bar. Snow's anger faded into a mischievous grin. "Well, well, look who we have here," she said, her eyes gleaming like the tip of her cigar as she took another long drag. "'Scuse me, fellas," she said, and headed toward the table, leaving a contrail of smoke in her wake.

Shrek watched her go, a look of incredulity still on his face. The dwarf noticed it, smirked, and said, "Don't worry, bub. The story books'll clean it up."

* * *

"Hey, there Cinderelly!" Snow said buoyantly, slapping the startled blond on the back just as she was taking another drink from her mostly empty glass. Snow then plopped herself down in an empty chair beside her and added, "Fancy meeting you here!"

The blond swallowed hard, closed her eyes, shook her head, and sighed a sigh of distaste. "Please don't call me that, it's demeaning and you KNOW I hate it."

"Sorry about that, CinderelLA," Snow said, picking up the mostly empty bottle from the table in front of them and examining it. "Champaign! Well, well. Celebrating the wedding festivities a little early, are we?" Snow then took another long drag from her cigar.

Cinderella waved at the cigar smoke, her nose curling in disgust. "MUST you smoke that … THING? It's REVOLTING!"

"You think so?" Snow said, setting the bottle back down and examining the half-smoked cigar as she released another plume of smoke. "Well, I guess SOME people feel cigar smoking is a bit vulgar," and with that, she tossed the cigar into one of the water glasses on the table where it quickly fizzled to its death while Cinderella again wrinkled her nose at the further crudity. "For a lady, anyway," Snow added.

"Lady! Ha!" Cinderella scoffed, then drained her glass and hiccuped.

"Hey, girlfriend, you live with a bunch'a rough, uneducated working stiffs out in the forest for a few years and some things tend to rub off on you," Snow said. "Besides, where do YOU get off acting all hoidy-toidy? As I recall, YOU were the one who spent her life in dirt and ashes while I was the one born to royalty. I'M the one with blue blood here, cutie, whereas YOU had to go golddigging for a royal hubby to attain 'Princess' status. Speaking of which, where IS your charming better half?"

Cinderella's face suddenly became sullen and she sniffled. "We – we had a falling out – some time ago. He was out in the woods one day and met this girl and – well, she ended up getting in trouble, and he ended up rescuing her, and then they – and then they –" On the verge of tears, Cinderella trailed off and grabbed the bottle, poured the remainder of it into her glass, and then quickly drained half of the glass.

"Oh, Cindy. Sorry kid. Yeah, I've heard THAT story before!" Snow said. "So I take it he dumped YOU for this new chick, and now you're out trolling for another of those happily-ever-after partners again, too."

Cinderella looked down, nodded, sobbed … then hiccuped again.

"And so I assume you'll be bouquet diving after the wedding, hoping to get a little extra magical advantage, like me" Snow said, her face taking on a thoughtful expression as Cinderella shrugged, her eyes still fixed on the tabletop before her. Then Snow picked up the now empty bottle, examined it again and then said in a warm and consoling voice, "You know, after what you've been through, this stuff doesn't seem strong enough. How about you and me drown our man problems in a bottle of vodka?"

Cinderella looked up at Snow as the latter tried to appear innocent and concerned. One corner of Cinderella's mouth curled in a half-smile, half sneer as she said, "You're not going to get me drunk, Snow. I can – hic – hold my liquor!" She then drained the rest of the glass she was holding.

"Well," Snow said, dropping her pretense, "it doesn't look like you can hold it for long."

Cinderella's eyes flashed fire and she had just opened her mouth to retort when they heard the scream.

* * *

As soon as Snow left them, Shrek had told the dwarf about Fiona's request and asked for pointers. The dwarf chuckled and said, "Hey, bub, you're just gonna have to wing it."

"But I don't know where t'begin!" Shrek protested, "I never wrote anything fancy in my life!"

"Hey, she ain't lookin' for fancy, fella!" the dwarf said, "she's just lookin' for something sincere that comes from …" here the dwarf tried to reach up to Shrek's chest, but seeing that he couldn't reach it, he thumped on his own … "from in here."

"I dunno …" Shrek said.

"Look, buddy, just keep it simple and sincere. You'll do fine. Trust me."

Shrek thought for a moment, then smiled wryly as he said, "Frankly, I'd prefer havin' to rescue her from some other terrible danger."

At that moment, Fiona, from inside the house let loose a blood-curdling scream. "What the –" Shrek muttered, turning toward the house, as a moment later Donkey also let loose from inside the house with a horrified yell.

In no time at all Shrek had sprinted across the clearing and burst open the door of his house. The first thing he saw was the priest, huddled in a corner, staring, terrified, across the room. Shrek followed his gaze and saw Donkey, backed up against a wall, quivering and staring in wide-eyed fright up at Fiona, who stood menacingly in front of him only a yard or so away. She was back in the newly cleaned wedding dress, her back facing Shrek, but even so Shrek could see from the flushed color of her skin, the vein bulging in her neck, and the way she was clenching her hands as she faced Donkey that she was in obvious fury.

"You ATE the WEDDING RINGS?!" she screamed down at Donkey, and then took a step towards him, causing him to scream again.

"WHAT'S GOIN' ON?!" Shrek shouted.

Fiona spun around, her eyes ablaze and her teeth clenched in a grimace of anger. It took her a moment to focus on the figure in the doorway, but as soon as she did she pointed down at Donkey and said accusingly, "He ATE the WEDDING RINGS!"

"So I'd heard," Shrek said, and walked across to where Fiona stood. He gently laid his hands on her arms, trying to sooth her, and felt her trembling in anger. He then looked down at Donkey and asked, "All right, what happened?"

"Well," Donkey said, still agitated but starting to calm down, "we was rehearsing – you know, the weddin', an' the part where I present the rings? An' – well, you know how I don't have no hands an' – well, to make a long story short, I kinda swallowed them."

Fiona looked back at Donkey, somewhat – but not entirely – calm herself. "He ATE the WEDDING RINGS," she said yet again.

"Well, not really," Donkey said, "I mean, there wasn't no chewin' involved, so I didn't really EAT them. 'Fact, if you wait till tomorrow, you can probably have 'em back!" Here Donkey offered a hopeful smile.

Fiona's lip curled in distaste. "After they've passed through – yuck! NO THANKS!"

Donkey's smile faded. "Well – um –" he stammered, then smiled again and said, "Hey, I saw a barefoot kid out there a little while 'go wearing some kinda ring on a string 'round his neck. Maybe we can borrow that!"

Fiona, whose anger had slowly shrank into despondency, just released a sad little chuckle, shook her head, and then turned and walked over to Shrek's armchair, where she flopped down, rested her elbows on her knees and stared down at the floor. Shrek followed and knelt in front of her.

"Fi, we kin delay the wedding a day or two and have them make us some new ones –"

"No," she said, "everything's almost set up and guests are already arriving."

"But if it's that important to ye –"

She looked into his eyes and said, "Becoming your bride as soon as I can is MORE important to me than anything," she said. Then she finally offered a genuine smile and added, "So you're not going to be able to use THAT as an excuse, mister!"

Shrek smiled back. "That's my girl," he said, then gave her a kiss on the lips. "So you're not upset that I just saw you, either?"

"Huh?" she said, then her eyes grew wide in realization. "Oh RATS!" she said.

"Is someone referring to us?" a mild-mannered British voice inquired from the doorway. "We're mice, actually."

Shrek and Fiona looked to the still open doorway to see three white mice, wearing dark glasses and carrying small canes, standing in front of a gaggle of humans and fairy tale folk who had shown up in response to the screams. Now they stood at the doorway, looking curiously in.

"Everything's okay people," Shrek said, standing up and addressing the crowd, "the Princess is fine an' there's nothin' more t'see here."

Most of the people, although still curious and confused, began filing back away from the door in response to Shrek's authoritative voice. But as most filed away, one raven-haired woman moved forward, rushed through the doorway, past Shrek and knelt beside Fiona.

"Oh, Dear!" Snow White said, her voice dripping with sweet concern, as she took Fiona's hand. "Are you SURE you're all right?"

As Shrek looked down at the scene another woman rushed by him and knelt by Fiona's other hand and took it. "Oh, yes!" Cinderella said, "Your scream frightened us so! Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Uh – well – THANK you," a befuddled Fiona said, "but I'm all right, really. I don't –" but then a gleam came into her eyes. "YES, actually, there IS something you BOTH might be able to do for me to help with the wedding!"

"Huh?" Shrek said, looking down at Fiona and resting his hands on his hips.

Fiona looked up at him and smiled. "Oh, dear," she said sweetly, "isn't there something you're supposed to be doing?"

"What?" he said, then remembered. "Oh. That." He sighed, then looked over at Donkey, who had relaxed but was still backed against the wall. "C'mon, Donkey,"

"Yeah! I'm right behind ya!" Donkey said, happy to be leaving the house for now and falling into step behind Shrek.

Shrek began toward the doorway, but paused. There was still one person standing there. It was the grouchy dwarf. The dwarf looked passed Shrek to the chair where the two women knelt in front of the ogress, then shook his head. "Looks like SOME women are ALREADY tryin' to position themselves to catch that weddin' bouquet," the dwarf muttered, then turned and walked away.

* * *

The hours passed by and at last, as the sun hung low in the western sky, the time for the wedding had come. Guests filled the wooden benches that faced the arch of flowers, where Shrek stood beside Donkey, awaiting the entrance of the bride. The priest stood in front of them, holding his Bible, also waiting, his face a mask of serene patience wrought by years of experience. Shrek glanced at the setting sun, then looked back around the clearing. No Fiona.

"Where d'ya think she is?" Donkey whispered.

"I don't know," Shrek whispered back.

"You don't think she chickened out, do ya?"

"Chicken? Fiona? Hardly."

"Or maybe she just changed her mind?"

Shrek frowned down at his best 'man'. "Donkey …"

"Sorry, man, sorry!" Donkey said. Then after a moment he added humbly, "And sorry 'bout those rings, too."

"Forget it," Shrek said, glancing back at the sun, Donkey's words having caused worries to creep into his mind.

"But – well, it's not like I'm the first donkey to swallow his buddies' wedding rings before a marriage!"

Shrek looked back down at Donkey and cocked an eyebrow.

"Well, okay, maybe I AM," Donkey conceded, "but … well, weird things happen in Duloc!"

"Tell me about it," Shrek muttered.

"Oh! Okay!" Donkey said, surprised that Shrek had actually invited him to talk, "Well, here in Duloc –"

"Donkey!" Shrek snapped, "It was just an expression!"

"Oh," Donkey said, chagrinned. "Sorry."

Just then some activity occurred in the area where the musical instruments were assembled. Cinderella and Snow White, the latter carrying a sheet of paper, appeared from behind a clump of trees near the large organ. Snow trotted over to where one of the dwarves sat at the organ's bench, handed him the paper, and whispered something into his ear. The dwarf smiled, nodded, sat the paper on the stand in front of him, then nodded toward Thelonious, who stood by the organ's pump. Thelonious nodded back, then began working the pump as the audience, which had caught on to the activity behind them, looked back and started murmuring. Then the dwarf looked at the paper and began playing the familiar wedding theme – well, played the first four notes of it. But he held down the fourth note for several seconds, and as he did so Cinderella and Snow White took a stance to either side of one of the microphone stands, apparently so they could share the mike. As they did so, Goldilocks, holding a wicker basket, dashed out from behind the clump of trees and ran to the back of the 'aisle' that the opening between the rows of benches formed, where she turned and waited. Then, from behind the same trees, Fiona appeared, holding a bouquet of flowers. Her eyes caught Shrek's, and they both smiled deeply.

Then the dwarf finally released the fourth note of the wedding march, but instead of continuing with that song he segued into the first, introductory notes of another, unfamiliar song. As he played those notes, Fiona walked over to another microphone stand, removed the cordless mike from its holder, then looked at Shrek again and began singing a slow, sweet song.

"There is something that I see

In the way you look at me

There's a smile, there's a truth in your eyes"

Then she turned and gestured toward Shrek's home.

"What an unexpected way

On this unexpected day

Could it mean this is where I belong?"

Then she looked back to Shrek as she concluded the verse:

"It is YOU I have loved all along"

She began slowly walking toward the assembly, taking short steps in time to the music:

"It's no more mystery

It is finally clear to me

You're the home my heart searched for so long

And it is you I have loved all along"

Her steps had taken her to the back row of the benches that made up the 'aisle'. She stopped and stood there, her eyes drifting downward as she sang the next verse, her voice cracking ever so slightly:

"There were times I ran to hide

Afraid to show the other side

Alone in the night without you"

Then she swung her face back up and towards Shrek, her voice resuming its confidence:

"But now I know just who you are

And I know you hold my heart

Finally this is where I belong

It is you I have loved all aloooong"

As she began singing the chorus, Fiona began taking strides down the 'aisle' between the benches toward Shrek, her steps again in time to the music. Goldilocks walked in front of her, spreading sunflower petals from her basket. Meanwhile, back at their microphone stand, Cinderella and Snow White began singing background vocals to Fiona's lead in the chorus:

"It's no more mystery

It is finally clear to me

You're the home my heart searched for so loooong

And it is you I have loved allll a-loooong"

Fiona, now only a few feet from Shrek, then closed her eyes, tossed her head back, and threw her entire being into start of the next verse, her voice booming at the top of its range. Some of the smaller and more delicate fairy folk actually cringed at its power:

"OVER and OVER

I'm FILLED with E-MO-TION

YOUR LOVE, it RU-USHES THROUGH… MY VEEEEINS …"

Then she reopened her eyes and looked back at Shrek, her voice steadily softening as she concluded the verse:

"And I am filled

With the sweetest de-vo-tion

As I … I look … into your … per-fect face …"

Shrek blushed shyly and swallowed hard. Meanwhile, Donkey observed, "Waittaminute, 'veins' don't rhyme with 'face'!" which was quickly met with a chorus of "SHHHH'es" from everyone in the front row.

Fiona smiled sweetly, then resumed her timed march up the aisle as she concluded the song:

"It's no more mystery

It is finally clear to me

You're the home my heart searched for so loooong

And it is YOU I have loved …

It is you I have LOVED …

It is you … I have loved … all aaaa-loooooooooooonnng"

The last step of the last lyric brought Fiona to her position right beside Shrek at the 'altar'. Silence filled the clearing in the wake of Fiona's song as she and Shrek stood there, staring into each others' eyes and smiling. After a few seconds, however, Fiona's expression slid from adoration to expectation. Shrek cocked a confused eyebrow, and Fiona mouthed the words, "Your turn."

Shrek nodded, then reached inside his vest and withdrew a sheet of paper. He looked over it, sighed, then suddenly crumpled it and let it fall to the ground. Many in the audience gasped, and a loud murmuring ensued. Meanwhile, Fiona watched the fall of the crumpled paper to the ground, then looked back up at Shrek, slack-jawed, an expression of shock on her face.

"I'm sorry, Fiona," Shrek said, his voice pained, "I tried sittin' down and writin' something really nice for ye. But … well, it just doesn't hold a candle to what ye did for me just now. It would'a been embarrassin', in fact. Writin' flowery stuff just isn't my forte." He then sighed, looked over to his house, gestured to it, and said, "For years, THAT was my fort. A place where I could keep my feelings bottled up and protected. An impenetrable place. I figured that, here on my little island, I'd be safe from havin' my feelings hurt anymore, by stayin' away from anybody or anything that might hurt 'em. A place of solitude and sanctuary. And I convinced m'self that I was happy here, that I was free. But then I met YOU, an' – and I realized how wrong I was. I thought that absence of pain meant happiness – but after I met ye, an' then we were parted, I realized that absence just meant emptiness. I realized that because, in the trip back to Duloc, you filled that emptiness – that void – with the sweetest, most wonderful presence I could ever have imagined. In fact, I COULDN'T have imagined it b'fore I met ye. It would'a been like a man blind from birth tryin' t'imagine a beautiful masterpiece of a painting. And now, to have ye here with me, here in this place, that void – that empty spot in my bein' – is filled. You're the glue that fills and binds everything t'gether. I love ye. I always will. I'd be proud to have ye as m'wife, even though I don't – I'll never – deserve ye, you being a princess and all –"

Fiona, whose expression had been steadily changing from shock when Shrek dropped the crumpled paper back to adoration as he spoke his spontaneous confession, now reached up and gently placed a hand on his lips. "True nobility can come with green skin as easily as blue blood," she said, tears starting to well in her eyes, "and you are truly the most noble spirit I have ever met. You are my prince, and I am proud to be your princess." Here she removed her hand from Shrek's mouth, made a gesture that took in the swamp, then added, "And I look forward to ruling your beautiful principality here with you."

Fiona then flicked tears from the corners of her eyes, smiled up at Shrek, and joined her hands with his. He smiled back at her. Their eyes locked as they silently beheld each other. The priest, sensing his time had finally come, began reciting. "People … and other citizens … of Duloc, we gather here today …"

As the priest continued reciting his part, Donkey's eyes drifted down to the paper that Shrek had crumpled and dropped and was now laying right in front of the equine. Curious, he carefully pulled the paper open with his front hooves and saw that it contained a poem of several verses, the first couple of which read:

"Your longish ears

Your pudgy nose

They thrill me dear

From head to toes

When I embrace

Your rotund form

You fill my arms

And make me warm"

The other verses continued along the same lines. Donkey shook his head and muttered to himself under his breath, "Oh, man, Shrek, it's a good thing you went improv! Who'd write anything like THIS?" Donkey then kicked the paper aside and looked back up to the priest, who had reached the part where he asked for objections.

"If anyone in this assembly knows any just cause why this marriage should not be performed, let him speak now, or forever hold his peace."

Dragon, who has lying behind the last row of benches, suddenly gave a loud belch, as if in indigestion from something she ate. Everyone looked back toward her. She smiled, embarrassed, then shook her head and waved for them to continue. Everyone turned back to the way they were before. Fiona looked at Shrek's face and giggled at the relieved irritation that had replaced his brief look of concern. He chuckled back.

"Fiona," the priest said, "do you take Shrek to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

"I DO!" Fiona said boldly and unflinchingly, staring into Shrek's eyes.

"And you, Shrek," the priest said, "do you take Fiona to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

As the priest spoke, Shrek had been staring into Fiona's deep blue eyes, feeling himself almost getting lost in those two glimmering pools. When the priest finished his question and paused, Shrek nodded, smiled deeply, and replied, "Aye."

Several seconds of silence ensued, and Fiona's smile faded and her face started taking on a look of anxiety as the audience again started to murmur. Shrek was perplexed for a moment, then realized the problem. "DO!" he said loudly. "I DO!"

The murmuring died, replaced in some quarters by laughter, and Fiona resumed her benevolent smile, now accented with a touch of amusement.

"And so, by the power invested in me," the priest concluded, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. Those whom God has joined together, let no man … or whatever … put asunder. You may kiss the bride."

Fiona and Shrek, now wed, continued staring at each other a moment longer. Fiona blushed and shivered. Shrek also felt color rising to his cheeks. "Mrs. Zach," he said quietly, "I think we somehow skipped over that 'obey' part."

Fiona shrugged innocently, then giggled and leaned forward. Shrek did the same. Their eyes closed and their lips embraced yet again. The priest and Donkey both stepped away to let the newlyweds have the stage to themselves. The audience cheered and a cascade of flower petals was released above them. But Shrek and Fiona, still locked in their first post-nuptial kiss, somehow didn't notice. As the kiss lingered, Donkey looked back past the last row of benches and saw Dragon there, staring at him and looking a bit lonely. He trotted back to her, smiled and said, "So, they're finally married. Princess and ogre. Man, could you imagine any odder couple gettin' hitched?" She smiled back at him and batted her eyes.

And they all lived happily ever after.

Until …

THE END


End file.
